The Skull King Chronicles: Rise of the Skull King
by The Skull King
Summary: Mandalorian warrior Dar Kyram discovers a link that will finally lead him to his revenge against pirates that destroyed his life. In a quest for blood thirsty vengeance, Dar is thrust into a battle for his life and finds a bigger destiny than he knew.
1. Chapter 1

**STAR WARS**

**Rise of the Skull King**

Eleven years has passed since the extragalactic YUUZHAN VONG were defeated and order was restored to the GALACTIC FEDERATION of FREE ALLIANCES.

As the end of the Yuuzhan Vong war came to a head, Mandalorian bounty hunter BOBA FETT returned to his people and rallied them against the invaders, repelling them from their world.

With the Mandalorians once more being organized into a formidable culture, many have taken up their heritage and started to venture out into a brand new galaxy, ripe with business . . . .

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**Chapter One**

**T**he rain came down hard on the transparasteel windowpanes, early in the Ramada Prime morning. The sheets of water beaded down the windows of the apartment's bedroom, with flashes of lightening cutting through the morning darkness every few minutes, followed closely by deep rumbling thunder.

And yet, Dar was not at all bothered by it. In fact, he was in a complete sense of bliss without even considering the weather outside. The man was laying in bed, as comfortable as he could be with his arm draped over the exotic, blue hued Twi'lek lying against his broad chest.

The night before had been very interesting. He had been at a local cantina, several blocks away from the residential complex he was now sleeping in, and had made very good friends with several bottles of alcohol.

Cutting through the din of the thunder outside, a quiet beeping began chirping in the darkness. That caused Dar to open an eye suddenly.

"Your helmet is beeping," came the sleepy voice of the heavily tattooed, red skin-toned Twi'lek girl behind him, who had her arms wrapped over his shoulder. She snuggled closer into his back, as if it would cause the beeping to stop.

"Fierfek…" Dar knew what that beeping meant. It meant trouble.

Sitting up, he carefully untangled himself from the two women, both of who just groaned at his disturbing their sleep, and found two of the remaining bottles that had been victimized the night prior. Soon as he was free, though, the red Twi'lek shifted over and wrapped her arms around the still sleeping blue one.

Dar Kyram was short, by Human standards. Only standing 1.6 meters tall, he filled out for his height with his stocky, heavy build. Tattoos swirled across his left shoulder, across the side of his neck and collarbone, to taper off down his arm. A blue Mythosaur skull with a crown of flame above it, the _kyr'bes_, was inked onto the back of his right forearm, along with other symbols and markings on the inside of both forearms. Up his entire right forearm was tattooing that showed an image of the space that surrounded his home world, which then turned into a swirl of blue-green flame at his elbow and up his upper arm to his shoulder.

He had hazel eyes, and dark blond hair which he let grow long enough to be somewhat shaggy, with a full set of 'chops worn on the sides of his face. The Mandalorian crossed the room to his dresser, where his helmet was set. The helmet was a unique one, shaped much like an archaic Republic Commando helmet, but the front visor had been replaced with the standard T-visor of a Mandalorian helmet, seamlessly blending the two styles together. Putting it on, he blinked at the warning screen that had popped up, which then brought up on his HUD the image of an external security cam placed outside the apartment complex. Sure enough, as he expected, a gang of swoop riders had pulled up, and were gathering under eve of the apartment building's entrance.

"_Haar'chak_… Gotta go, _cyar'ika_. Got some damage to deal with." Dar began suiting himself up, while keeping an eye on his HUD for the swoop gang. He was patched into the complex's security cams, so continued to watch the movements of the group. There were two Humans, three Twi'lek, a Trandoshan, and two Zabraks. _I like it when the odds are on my side_, Dar thought to himself while getting his dark blue jump suit put on.

The gang wasn't too much of a surprise to him, as he had become acquainted with them the night before. Unfortunately for them, he had been far more adept at swooning the attractive females. It was doubly unfortunate for the larger Twi'lek male in the lead of the gang, for the blue one was his sister and the red one had been his girlfriend.

As such with all true Mandalorians, Dar wore the traditional _beskar'gam_ of his culture. The armor was made of _beskar_; an ore found only on Mandalore and was made only by Mandalorians into the shock trooper armor. Even though extremely rare these days due to the former Empire strip mining Mandalore of the iron, Dar wore what had once been his grandfather's armor.

The armor plates were painted a dark blue with a trim of gray on each armored plate. His helmet, a similar style of blue and gray trim with black cheek plates and wrapped around the back.

Dar strapped on his belts of ammo clips, the ancient blue ARC Trooper lieutenant rank pauldron and kama, the holsters for his multiple weapons and pistols, then finally putting on the last bits of armor, his gloves and gauntlets.

"You ladies just stay in bed," he said, while heading for the door. "I'll be back in a little while with breakfast."

The two Twi'lek had both gone back to sleep, aware of this being a usual distraction with Dar. According to his HUD, the gang was now heading through the apartment complex hallways, splitting up to hopefully corner Dar.

That disappointed him. He was truly hoping they'd be sporting and not tactical. Oh well. He had the upper hand. He always had the upper hand.

The Trandoshan and two of the Twi'lek had taken the lift to the third floor, which he resided on. The two Zabraks and two Humans had both taken to the two stairwells on each end of the third story hallway, just incase Dar decided to escape either way out.

He stepped from the room, shutting and locking the door panel behind him, and made his way directly for the lift tube's entrance, just a few doors up the hall to his right. There was a ding as the door opened, and the Trandoshan came out first.

Dar didn't wait; he lunged in with his blaster pistol drawn. Jamming the muzzle of the pistol into the surprised Trandoshan's throat, he squeezed the trigger to unload several shots into the neck of the swoop thug. The large Trandoshan gurgled in surprise as his throat was cooked with the smell of Ozone and burned flesh. Falling back, he left the two Twi'lek opened. Dar fired two shots, both leaving burn marks in the forehead of each Twi'lek. The three were all dropped to the floor of the lift tube car. Dar simply closed the doors, and keyed the lift car to return to the first floor.

He didn't even hesitate, as he knew that his cover of surprise was blown by now. Bolting down the hallway, the clacking of his weapons and armor and gear echoing down the hall, he headed for the closer of two doors.

Both doors to the stairwells opened at the same time. The door he was running to opened, and the pair of Zabraks stepped out. They had heavy body armor and even heavier looking blaster rifles. Dar acted instantly, firing as he ran, before diving into a forward roll. Above him, the air heated as red energy bolts sizzled through the space he had once been standing.

Coming up to his knees, he fired up at the first Zabrak, slotting two burn marks across his face. But the second one dodged back into the doorway. Behind him, he heard the two Humans shouting and charging up the hall.

Dar went after the Zabrak in the stairwell, who had gone to take cover behind a trash receptacle, but he was on him in an instant. Leaping over the receptacle, he kicked the gun out of the Zabrak's hands, and reversed the kick back to his head. Knocking the Zabrak back, he landed, fired with his blaster pistol and once more left three burning holes in the face and neck.

Meanwhile, the two Humans were now closing in on the stairwell, and firing as they came. Ducking behind the receptacle that the now dead Zabrak had intended on using as cover, Dar withdrew one of his vibroknives into his left hand. He peeked over the trash receptacle, only to be greeted with a fury of blaster fire.

But he saw what he needed. The two Humans had taken up cover on the other side of the doorframe, and were now well defended. Holstering his pistol, Dar reached to his belt and unclipped a flash grenade. Pressing the activator stud, he tossed it out into the hallway, waited for the flash to explode and blind his two opponents.

Once they were stunned and thus rendered defenseless, Dar leapt out into the hall, vibroknife activated. It didn't take long to slash their necks, ear to ear. Cleaning the blade off on their suits, he replaced it. All that was left now was the large Twi'lek who he did not see come up with the rest. He flicked through the security cams of the apartment complex. There was no sign of the final swoop thug.

With a shimmer in his HUD, his 360-degree view caught the sight of the Twi'lek coming into the light behind him, apparently out of thin air. He apparently had a shadow suit on.

"Filthy Mandalorian scum!" With both hands held in a fist clasped together, the Twi'lek clubbed Dar from the back, knocking him forward. Tumbling down, he rolled over in time to block a booted kick from the Twi'lek. He rolled back over his shoulder onto his heels, to get booted in the visor plate and knocked back once more.

Getting himself back to his feet, Dar hopped back just in time to miss the stun-rod the Twi'lek now had in hand. He jumped back again, using his armored forearm to deflect another shocking strike. If that stun-staff hit him on anything other than the _beskar_ armor, he'd be down to the floor.

"This the best you got, _chakaar_?" The taunt enraged the Twi'lek further, and he stepped back, falling into pace of hand-to-hand combat, making sure not to be struck by the staff. But each step set him into a rhythm of reading the other's moves and strikes.

Soon after a few moments of the game, Dar made his move. He waited for the Twi'lek to lunge in, and then twisted on a heel-toe pivot that let the staff go straight past his torso. Grabbing the haft of the staff, he tugged the Twi'lek off balance. Then Dar took the brief window to move in close to the Twi'lek and sweep his foot from under him and let him hit the floor at his feet. Taking the staff now, Dar twirled it, and then jammed it into the side of the Twi'lek's head. With a brief yelp of shock, the heavy thug was unconscious.

Deactivating the stun-rod, Dar looked around and tossed it aside. No one had come out of his or her or its apartments during the fight. It wasn't unexpected. In this part of Ramada Prime's biggest spaceport, Zaffar, a fatal conflict was not unheard of. And the odds of a call into the local authorities was even less heard of. That made the neighborhood just perfect for a Mandalorian mercenary who wanted to be left to his own devices.

Leaving the big Twi'lek on the floor, he made his way back to the stairwell to check the bodies he'd left behind. He rifled through their uniforms and gear, taking their ID cards and money they carried. He didn't touch the weapons. Dar had plenty of his own kit and none of these wore worth half of what he had. Amateurs.

Finding nothing of use of the swoop thugs, he went to the still unconscious big Twi'lek. Going through his gear, he found nothing of interest other than he was obviously the gang's leader.

But then something did catch his attention. On the back of the swoop leader's wrist was a tattoo, a symbol that brought up old and painful memories within Dar.

It was simple, a Human hand clasped with a Yuuzhan Vong hand.

He didn't hesitate. The blaster came up from his holster and a burning hole was thus slotted into the side of the Twi'lek's head.

He had been a former member of the Peace Brigade.

With the inspections of the swoop thug done, Dar took the ident card he would no longer need, and made his way down the hall once more, back to the stairwell that was the tomb for several swoop gang members. The rumble of thunder rolled outside, and he knew the sun would be coming up very soon. Walking over the bodies, and down the stairs, he headed for the outside exit. He had a pair of girls back in bed that he promised breakfast for.

If there was one thing, Dar Kyram was known for, that was keeping his promises.

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Mando'a to Basic translations

_kyr'bes_ - skull, especially Mythosaur skull (also "crown")

_Haar'chak!_ - Damn it!

_cyar'ika_ - darling; Sweetheart

_beskar'gam_ - armor

_beskar_ - Mandalorian iron

_chakaar_ - corpse robber, thief, petty criminal


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**O**utside, Dar came to a stop at the base of the stairs leading up into the residential complex. Rain continued to fall, spattering off his armor and drizzling across his T-visor.

The city of Zaffar was the main spaceport hub of Ramada Prime. It was sprawled out over 80 kilometers of what had once been lush forests and valleys. Now it was a bustling metropolis, which had rebuilt itself out of the ruins of the galactic war with the Yuuzhan Vong eleven years ago.

Ramada Prime lay just off the Perlemian Trade Route, in the thin strip, on a galactic scale, of the Expansion Regions between the Inner Rim and Mid Rim. Its closest neighboring system was the Contruum system.

The planet had at one point been a staging point, used by the Yuuzhan Vong to launch their invasion deeper into the galactic core. And they had held the planet, violently, until the end of the war when the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances had repelled the invaders.

It had taken a decade, but Ramada Prime had found itself a key transitional planet between the inner and outer sectors of the galaxy after the war. There were many a planetary systems looking to rebuild, especially those that had been in the invasion corridor. Being where it sat on the Perlemian, a major hyperspace route as it was to begin with, and the fact it held the pass between the inner and outer rim, it had become a bustling pass for prospectors and contractors looking to make it big in the invasion corridor and help repair the damage left by the war.

The city of Zaffar had actually been a small landing pad in the tropical regions of the planet. With the tide of galactic citizens wanting to rebuild their homes back in the Mid and Outer Rims, it had blown up into its own thriving city and spaceport.

From the center of the city, The Needle rose up taller than any other building on the planet. A massive tower that allowed personal transports and cruisers to dock planet side, it was a pillar of white duracete and reflective transparasteel. The base was a large block, allowing docking pads across its roof, and docking bays within the side for smaller personal craft. The tower itself, rising from the center, filled to the top with galactic offices and residential floors. It was a pillar of hope for the teeming masses wanting to rebuild their lives.

Coming to and from The Needle was a steady stream of ferry shuttles that took passengers from the surface to the larger non-atmospheric cruisers that were docked at The Needles counter-part station, The Cross that was in geosynchronous orbit directly above.

The Cross also had a similar sight of hope for settlers and explorers, broken families and individuals trying to put back together their former lives. In high orbit, it was a space station made up of two straight sections, 9 kilometers long, intersecting in the middle. Space cruisers of all types docked here. Mon Cal cruisers, a pair of Republic Star Destroyers flanking a smaller Imperial Dreadnaught that had somehow survived from all the way back in the Clone Wars.

All in all, Ramada Prime was the key place for Dar to base himself right now.

As a Mandalorian, and always looking for work, being in a hub like this suited him just fine.

Ramada Prime, and Zaffar itself, was like any other civilized plot in the galaxy. It had the bright side, which hopefuls saw when they came here looking to make the pass to the Outer Rim worlds.

And it also had its under side, that the hopefuls soon found themselves sucked into because getting passage to the Outer Rim was always far more expensive than planned. The scum and villainy of the underground thrived here, far removed from the gleaming tower of hope The Needle was supposed to be.

Dar had come here three years prior, and had been capitalizing on the amount of mercenary work to be had in this sector. No matter what war was going on, or what democratic or dictatorial government was in place, there was always some scumbag who had upset the wrong person that had the funds to exact their vengeance.

And if that allowed Dar to keep his kit in working order, food in his belly, and a roof over his head, then so be it.

Walking down the sidewalk of the avenue, Dar had suddenly quite a bit on his mind and the newfound information of the Peace Brigadier couldn't wait. His morning was all planned out. First, a meeting with his current employer, and secondly, breakfast for the two ladies waiting back at his apartment.

Several blocks north of the low income residential sector was the just as unsavory industrial-commercial zone. Warehouse blocks lined the streets for miles, factories and distribution centers stacked upon each other for small to medium transport freighters to access easily.

Dotted through out this maze of loading yards and storage bays, were smaller vendor shops. Metal and machine shops, plasteel and transparasteel manufacturing plants; a highly industrial zone that used as equal parts of organic labor as it did robotic.

On the rare occasion, one would find a small pub or tavern on the corner of the more traversed street intersections. The owners who clung to financial life here found that many a sentient wanting nothing more than to numb their minds after a body numbing day of labor.

Entering one of the more drab pubs, Dar made no notion to relieve himself of his armory to the door guard's booth. The Quarren who held this position was the biggest Quarren Dar had ever encountered in his life.

Dar also didn't care. The squid-head stood to block the Mandalorian's path into the pub. "No weapons," he gurgled.

Dar didn't even hesitate. He shoulder checked the guard and continued past.

The guard had other intentions. Reaching out, he caught Dar's shoulder to halt him and turn him around. "Hey!"

Using the momentum of the guard pulling his left shoulder, he spun on the pivot of his foot, to rapidly turn around and throw the hand off. Dar's right hand came up, caught the hand he just removed from his shoulder. With a rotation of the Quarren's wrist, Dar's thumb pressed in between the joints of its hand, and the angle to which he twisted, the Quarren soon found himself dropping to his knees.

He then put pressure on the joints, which caused a wet yelp from the Quarren. Taking his free hand, he grabbed the tentacles at the guard's mouth and leaned in close. His filtered voice came out low and dangerous, "You touch me again, _osik kovid_, and you'll be wishing to your fishy god that I actually broke your wrist."

With a shove to the forehead, he pushed the Quarren back against the guard's booth, then made his way down into the pub.

The pub itself was below street level by several meters, so the steps went down considerably. Inside, the number of patrons was rather full for this hour. But there were no set schedule of labor, many shops and factories had such a variable to their different schedules, there was no set "happy hour".

The denizens of the industrial zone were what one would normally expect; they were tired, dirty, smelled of machines, fuel, and other odors one would pick up in such course work environments.

It had dim lighting, which was fine by the off shift workers who didn't spend much time outside anyway. It wasn't very clean, but it was at least cleaner than some of the standards most of the workers were used to. One side had a bar with an Ithorian pub tender, lazily washing a mug with what looked like a three year old towel. On the opposite of that was a betting ring with a series of holovids and flat screens that held sports for those who hoped to make it big with a quick chance on their sport of choice.

But it wasn't the moody lit pub, the bar that seemed to have just the right stock for tired workers to unburden themselves of their stresses and their meager, hard earned finances, or the tired degenerates that held Dar's attention.

It was the owner of the establishment.

In the center of the modest sized main foyer was a series of tables and booths. The long table in the secluded corner near the bar held a large, broad shouldered Feeorin, whose neck was so big he looked as if he had nothing but muscle under all his tendrils.

Around him were several other species Dar couldn't recognize, a Human, and two Drall.

"Me thinks y'need ta apologize fer embarrassin' my door guard," the Feeorin growled. The deep bass of his voice was dripping with malice.

"Maybe he should apologize for touching me. Then be thankful embarrassing him was all I did."

The black skinned Feeorin stared across the table to the unnerving T-visor. "Leave us," he commanded and the sentient beings at his table were quick to vanish to far more interesting scenes of the bar. "Yer mannerisms ain't very becomin' at all, mercenary. 'Specially comin' inta my pub that way, 'specially if'n yer lookin' fer work."

Dar didn't move a muscle. "Regardless of how I treat your staff, you'll still hire out to me. I know I'm going to walk out of here with a job, and information."

The Feeorin laughed a deep, booming laugh. But the look on his face was deadly serious. "Already paid you, I did, from yer last job, pup. If your expectin' a bit of information b'fore I cast you a job, with no transaction bein' made, then you've spaced yerself inside that helmet of yers."

Dar said nothing. He just stared with that anonymous T-visor.

The Feeorin scraped his chair back across the floor as he slowly stood. A male Feeorin usually stood around 2.2 meters. The one Dar tipped his head back to look across the table at stood 2.5.

"Belnak, you really don't want to do this," Dar said undauntedly.

"Oh, me's thinkin' I do, Mandalorian."

At these words, two very large Wookiees came up to each side of Dar. Each one took an arm, their grips unmistakably serious, and hauled him up just off the ground.

"Belnak, I'm warning you…"

The Feeorin smirked and tilted his head. "Mercenary, I be tellin' you this fer yer own good. Go easily with m'boys here, an' me promisin' you they won't be rippin' off yer arms. Take 'em ta th' back. Get rid of his kit. Me an' this li'l pup got some words to be sharin', an' I don't want him ta get any funny ideas. An' if'n he does… rip his arms off an' beat 'im with 'em."

The two Wookiees chuffed in reply, turned in unison, and took their prisoner to a door in the back of the pub.

Dar grit his teeth as they went through the door.

So this morning was going to be a bit longer than he expected.

_---------------------------------------_

Mando'a to Basic translations

_osik kovid_ - explitive; Impolite "dung" head.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**I**nside the back room, Dar was dropped from the grip the two Wookiees held. They stepped aside and folded their arms and stood at either side of the door.

Getting up, and adjusting his plates, he moved from the door and went to the desk that was in the center of the small office room.

It was Belnak's office. Dar knew it very well by now, and so made himself at home by sitting down on the plush couch that was set along the wall to his left. It didn't take very long, but soon Belnak walked in through the doors, and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Leave us, me an' the pup here got some words ta share."

The two Wookiees nodded, then walked out, shutting the door behind them.

That left Dar alone with the large Feeorin.

"Why you gotta be like that, Dar?" The Feeorin asked, arching an eye brow.

Dar shrugged. "Not my fault you hire cheap help."

Belnak stared at him for a moment, then sighed and shook his head, "I wouldn' hav'ta if ya'd quit breakin' them an' runnin' 'em off." He walked through the room to his desk. Stepping around behind it, he pulled the form-fit chair out and eased himself down into it.

"Hey, you're the one that wants me to come in here looking tough, just to help your reputation," Dar said, folding his arms and looking about the room.

Belnak sighed and waved it off, "Yeah, yeah. Jus' got ta keep up appearances 'round here is all, ya be knowin' that. Me ta assume ya be lookin' fer work, then are ya?" Belnak asked, leaning back.

Dar took off his helmet, and tucked in to his side. "You could say that," he said. "But I also want some information. I came across something today that maybe you could help me with."

"Ah hah hah!" The booming laughter erupted from Belnak. "You come here fer work, I can arrange! But information, now that, m'boy. That's a whole otha' story, ain't it?"

Dar just stared at him, "It's about the swoop gang that came in here last night. You remember the big Twi'lek, the one who I had to knock out before I went home?"

That slowed the big Feeorin's laughter abruptly. "Darm'lacor. Ah, I be knowin' Darmlac fairly well. Sad night fer him last night. Not so sad fer you though, from what I be hearin'. Heard you made yer way home wit' his girl an' sister both, what I hear."

"Not the first time those two ended up at my place. He just happened to show up at the wrong night is all. What's even more sad was when he and his goons tried getting the jump on me this morning," Dar said as he leaned forward, putting elbows over knees. "But what I want to know is what you know about his involvement with Peace Brigade."

Belnak went silent at that point. Dar knew he the pub owner had connections and had information. The silence was a dead give away.

"Belnak, don't you dare skim out on me about this," Dar pointed a finger at him to emphasize his point. "I've done too many bonus jobs for you to clam up what you know."

Belnak cleared his throat, leaned forward and clasped his hands together on the desk top. "Dar, m'boy. There be a lotta things I know. A lot of which, an' I do mean lot, that I hear jus' by runnin' this here establishment.

"An' you be right. I have asked a lot out of ya, special side jobs ya didn' get paid fer that ya shoulda'. I know ya need th' work, need th' experience. But when I tell you this, m'boy, that you don' need ta worry 'bout what's left of them Peace Brigadiers, you heed me well an' all. The group Darmlac was with, they some slimos ya don' wan' or need'ta be gettin' mixed up with, do I make m'self clear?"

Dar stood up, glaring. "Belnak, I've been working for you for the past three years. I've done my fair share of dirty work, and you've seen it. Hell, you've even arranged it on a few occasions. Don't you dare try to blow me off when I come to you about something you know is personal."

Belnak held his hands out, "Dar, m'boy, listen ta me. Yer only twentay-two years old—"

"I'm _Mandalorian_. I've been on my own for three years now, I know how to handle myself! I need this, Belnak. And you know it!"

The Feeorin sighed and his chair back. "Fine," he said. "But this information ya be wantin', I'm certain it be jus' above yer head." Belnak opened a drawer, and pulled at a data card. He tossed it to Dar. "I've been holdin' this for a while now. Knew it'd be jus'ta matter of time b'fore ya started lookin' fer it."

Dar caught the card, and looked it over suspiciously. "What's on it?"

"Just some information, m'boy. A little bit that might get ya where ya need ta go. But I be warnin' ya. You didn' get it from me, an' where it leads ya might be more than ya can handle. I trust yer abilities. I know how good ya be. But some things, well, not everyone can be that great. Mandalorian ya be, I agree. But yer no Boba Fett. Just you keep that in mind, ya hear me?" Belnak folded his arms and stared hard at him.

"You knew?" Dar said slowly, staring at the datacard before looking up at Belnak.

"Aye. But you know well as I that givin' you that card b'fore ya were even near ready fer it would be sendin' you out on'a suicide run. Maybe you got some trainin' from that grandfather of yers, an' Mandalorian you may be. But you just one man. This a whole army you facin', ya to know this now.

"An' you may have been beddin' that Twi'lek's sister of his for some time now, but if you indeed killed him… That's a whole other Sarlacc pit you just opened up. His people'll find out. You ain't gonna be safe much longer."

Dar pocketed the data card. "Thank you, Belnak. Maybe when this is done, I'll come back and do some errands for you again someday."

Belnak waved Dar's offer away, "Don't you think about that, m'boy. I wont be. Either you're gonna be dead in the end, or you'll be on a whole other path, an' you wont be havin' time fer a li'l pub runner like me."

Dar turned to pick up his helmet and put it on his head once more. "I wont forget this, Belnak. Thank you." And without looking back at the Feeorin, he made his way out of the office.

The two Wookiees were posted just outside the door, the same as they had been on the inside. He nodded to them both and they nodded back.

Walking through the pub, he headed for the door exit. The Quarren was still there, but this time avoided eye contact with the T-visor. Dar ignored him as he passed.

Outside, the morning was starting to bring a bit more life into the city. The rain had stopped and the sun was starting to break through the clouds.

Dar stood there for a moment, before heading back towards the resident complex. He had breakfast to get for the girls still. He'd grab that on his way back.

Then he'd go over the datacard and see where things took him next.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**A**s Dar walked into resiplex, he found the bodies were all removed. That wasn't a surprise. The scavengers probably already disposed of them, figuratively and literally. Dar didn't want to know about the literal part of it.

He carried a box under his arm, inside three separate breakfast meals warmed and ready to be eaten. Making his way up the hallway, he came to his apartment and unlocked it, going inside.

The two Twi'leks were still in bed, with the holoscreen on. They were watching some sort of local morning show.

"Did you really have to make that big of a mess, Dar?" Asked the blue Twi'lek.

As he locked the door behind him, Dar shrugged. "I told your brother not to mess with me last night, Kaleen. He didn't listen." He wasn't going to bring up the Peace Brigade tattoo. Not yet at least.

"That doesn't mean you had to kill him," said the red Twi'lek, Marnaara.

"You rather I let him kill me?" Dar said, as he set the box down on the foot of the bed for the two to open and retrieve their breakfast. He set his helmet on the dresser, and then began unloading his armor next to it. "Because the way you were telling me how horrible of a boyfriend he was, Marnaara, I figured I was doing you a favor."

Changing into just his basic tunic and pants, with just his blaster holstered to his thigh, he sat down on the edge of the bed to reach in for his own breakfast. The girls were already enjoying their pastries. They were crispy, flaky crescents with local fruit and cream filling, finished off with swirls of sweet icing on top. Dar had found them addictive, and found he had to work out just a little bit more to burn off the extra calories.

"That's not the point," Kaleen said after swallowing a bite of her crescent. "Just because Darmlac wasn't the greatest man in the galaxy…" She trailed off from the stare that Dar was giving her. Both Twi'leks looked at him quizzically.

They knew this stare. It was the stare he gave when someone was misinformed and he knew otherwise.

"He was a part of the Peace Brigade. Did you know that much about your dear brother?" Dar said, taking an angry bite of his crescent. "Did you know he joined with the Yuuzhan Vong fourteen years ago?"

Kaleen went silent.

"Yes, we did," Marnaara said quietly.

Kaleen softly spoke. "I was only ten when he left me to go join the Peace Brigade. But he made sure I had someplace or someone to take care of me while he was gone," she looked up at Dar. "He sent me money when he could. And when the war was over, made sure to come back and find us someplace to live and work."

Dar wasn't able to feel sorry. "Oh, yes. I know your brother found you a great place to live and work." He shook his head. "'Course, you know, what do I know about dancing? I'm just some Mandalorian work dog, right?"

Marnaara glared at Dar. "That's not fair, Dar. It's not easy getting ahead in the galaxy, and even harder now after the Yuuzhan Vong War."

Dar laughed, "Yeah, 'cause during the Imperial Order, a Twi'lek could easily hold up as a lawyer or a doctor."

"Shut up, Dar. What do you know, anyway?" Kaleen spat at him.

"I know your brother was apart of the Peace Brigade. The people that destroyed my life thirteen years ago."

Kaleen shook her head, "You've got it wrong. They were tasked to hunting down Jedi for the Vong. Nothing to do with Mandalorians; and given what you are, I'm surprised your people didn't help them."

"That's right, Dar," Marnaara said coming to Kaleen's defense. "The Mandalorians sided with the Yuuzhan Vong at the start of the war, too."

Dar just arched an eyebrow at her. "Marnaara, are you kriffin' seriously going to believe that _osik_? The Vong were going to double cross everyone! The Mandalorians knew that. We were selling information to the Republic and Alliance long before the Vong tried blowing up Mandalore. We weren't betraying anyone but the _hu'tuun, chakaar aruetiise Vongese_!"

The two women went quite for a moment. Dar stared laser bolts at them. The only sound in the room was of the holoscreen and the show that it was tuned into.

"Dar," Marnaara slowly started to speak. "Do you expect us to just say thank you? Regardless of what he did or what kind of person he was, he was someone we were close to. He was my boyfriend. He was her brother. Can you expect us, honestly, to not be upset in the least bit at you killing him?"

"No, I don't blame you," he said as he got up from the bed and stood in the middle of the room. "But you should have thought of that a while ago when you two started staying the night. You thought he'd never find out? And what did you think was going happen when he did? That he'd be okay with it? That I'd just apologize and everything would be good?" He nodded towards the door. "I think you two need to go for a while. I've got to do some research and you've got some mourning to do."

Kaleen looked at Marnaara, who glared and got out of bed to start gathering her clothing. Kaleen followed suite.

"_Echuta_, Dar. Sometimes you're a real _chuba de narla_," Marnaara said.

"Blow it out your vents, Marnaara. I don't care how I treat people. I only care that I'm still breathin'." He'd finish off his pastry, then found himself at the small table with his datapad and the datacard from Belnak.

"And from what I hear, he was part of somethin' more than just Peace Brigade. Unless you girls know something about it, there's the door."

Kaleen paused in the middle of strapping her thin top piece together and looked at Marnaara. Marnaara froze and stared at Dar.

They both looked at Dar. Neither moved for the door.

"Huh," he said as he stared them down. His hands moved accordingly to slot the datacard and activate the 'pad. "Then lets just see what I have here about your brother's other organization."

"Dar, wait," Kaleen said. Marnaara pulled her back to the edge of the bed where they sat and watched.

The screen activated and Dar's face lit up by the glow. He accessed the card and pulled up the information and documents Belnak had arranged for him.

His eyes soon became wider and wider as he read the information. Dar found he was dealing with some real heavy _osik_.

"How much do you really know about what Darmlac was involved with?" His gaze moved up to look at them.

Kaleen was the one who spoke. "We knew that his swoop gang was just his little taste of power. He always wanted more, but the gang was all he was ever able to get dirt side.

"Before the Peace Brigade disbanded towards the end of the war, he wound up with a group of pirates called the Dark Moon Cartel. They wanted to fill the crime gap that Black Sun had left open. But something happened and they ended up collapsing in on themselves. Some say it was because their leader got a personal job too personal and it ate them away."

Kaleen stood and looked at Dar. She'd reverted back to the submissive dancer she had been when Dar met her. "After that, they split apart and some went on to just be another set of pirates. Darmlac fell in with a section of them that had gone off towards the edge of Hutt Space and started raiding the remains of the Hutts. Darmlac never said anything else. But he told me if I ever came across them, or if they showed up, to avoid them at all costs. He knew how bad they were, and what they would do if they ever came across me. Or even Marnaara. He was trying to protect us.

"But he said how bad they were. They were insane, he said, and deadlier than any other pirate gang out on the space lanes. That's why he stayed here as a recruiter, instead of joining them out on the lanes."

Dar stared at her, then down at his datapad. What the she said barely scraped the surface of what he was reading.

And what he was reading started to concern even him.

The Reapers, they called themselves. They had been preying up and down the space lanes from The Wheel down to the Roche Asteroids and everything in between on the Perlemian. It wasn't a big chunk of space, but they were a true enough threat that they had been listed a Galactic Alliance Most Wanted.

They were far more ruthless than most pirates. They tended to kill without mercy or provocation. There were no set rules on whom they wanted or what they wanted.

But the one thing about The Reapers that Dar was most interested in was the fact they were just about all that remained of the Peace Brigade. Down to even using their symbol, and even hiring a few Yuuzhan Vong into their ranks.

They would be vengeance enough for him.

"Dar, we know what you did to Darmlac was self defense. We know he wasn't a stand up citizen in the galaxy," Kaleen had moved forward now. She crouched before him and took one of his hands into hers. "But he was my brother, and would never have let these pirates get to us. He was decent at least in that regard. But please, listen to me when I say running off to fight them won't bring back your family or answer for what the Peace Brigade did."

Marnaara still sat on the bed. "The Peace Brigade disbanded long ago, Dar. Running after these pirates won't change anything."

Dar sat quite for a moment before turning the datapad for them to look at. His voice was low and hard, "You see that face? That's Kijjar Vicant and he's the leader of The Reapers. The pirate gang your brother recruited for. That man is the same man who led the raid on my home and killed, raped, and kidnapped everyone I knew. It's been thirteen years, but I don't forget a face. I never knew what happened to him, but now I do. He may not be Peace Brigade, but he's still the man I vowed to kill. And nothin's going to stop me."

_---------------------------------------_

Mando'a to Basic translations

_"...hu'tuun, chakaar aruetiise Vongese_!" - "...cowardly, petty outsider Yuuzhan Vong!"

_Echuta_ - derogatory expletive (Huttese)

_"Chuba de narla"_ - derogatory expletive (Huttese)


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**T**he following day, Dar paid off his rental for the apartment, and began clearing out his belongings. He didn't have much, aside from his weapons. A duffel worth of guns, a duffel worth of clothing and personal needs and affects. He traveled lightly.

Marnaara was working today, and hadn't been able to see him off. Which was fine with Dar, because she was still heated over his decision to run off and face the pirate gang.

So Kaleen, who had the day off, chose to help him with cleaning up the mess of an apartment, being the fact she and Marnaara had spent so much time there.

"I know I've said it over and over," she was saying as she folded a pair of his pants up and set them on the foot of the bed. "But I really wish you'd stay. Just a little longer."

"Minds made up, _cyar'ika_. I have to do this." Dar sat in the chair he'd become very familiar with. It was comfortable and fit him well, especially when he was in his entire suit of armor, as he was wearing now. "There's no backing out, either. I have to."

"No, you don't." She said with a exasperation. "You only think you do! It's a fools suicide run!"

He was cleaning his array blaster as they spoke; taking his time to make sure it was all in full working order. "My entire clan, save for my _ba'buir _was killed that day. Doesn't leave a whole lot for a man who doesn't have a lot to live for."

There was silence, and it took a moment for him to notice. When he looked up, Kaleen threw a shirt at him forcefully. "That's so much _osik_ and you know it Dar!" She then went into a tirade of insults in Huttesse, interlaced with some _Mando'a _she'd picked up from him, and that made Dar's eye brows rise up.

"Careful now, _pateesa_, you're speakin' my language. Wouldn't want a classy girl like you talkin' savage like me."

"You wouldn't know class, even if it bit you in the face, Mandalorian!" She spat, throwing another article of clothing at him.

He just reached out and caught the shirt, and threw it back at her. "You've been staying at my apartment on and off again for the past six months. You didn't complain about my lack of class until now." He grinned slyly at her. "Actually, from what I could tell, you rather liked it."

That really set her off. She glowered at him, "And you think you should just pull anchor and ship off at the first sign of vengeance? It's just not worth it, Dar!"

Finally he put the gun aside on the table next to his chair. "Look, Kaleen. If all you're gonna do is fight with me, then there's the door. I don't want to argue with you about my choices and my decisions."

Kaleen stared at him incredulously. "Have you ever thought what your choices and your decisions mean to other people?"

Dar's hazel eyes came to a glare. He stood up, finally getting fed up with this argument. "No, Kaleen. I haven't. I never have! You know why? When you go out into a galaxy that doesn't care, you learn to not care right back at it! _Gor'ram _it, Kaleen, _gev_! Stop it! Why do you even care? I'm just another spice headed, alcoholic, _shuk'la_ mercenary! I have _nothing _to offer you! For Mand'alor's sake, I killed your _sha'buirla_ brother!"

Kaleen didn't respond as her expression went neutral for a moment, then she let a very sad look over come her face.

"Is that how you really feel?" she asked slowly. "That you're worthless? That you have no purpose?" Carefully she walked up to him and placed her hand on his cheek in a gesture of more pity than affection. "You're so broken, Dar. I see it. Marnaara sees it. But no matter how broken you are on the inside, there's no reason to break yourself on the outside. We've seen the scars. I know which ones you inflict on yourself and which ones come from your jobs. I know so much more about you than you even know about yourself."

With that, she pulled away. In silence, she picked up the clothing she had thrown at him. Dar stood there, staring at her. He felt so angry and exposed. That she could so easily see through the barriers he'd put up and walk right past them, it made him extremely unsure about himself.

After she finished, and packed them with the rest of his clothes in the duffel, she turned to face him. He hadn't moved.

"You're not perfect, Dar. In fact, you are one of the most imperfect men in the galaxy. But you know what? I don't care. And neither does Marnaara." Once more she came close to him; close enough he could feel her soft breath on his lips.

Dar stood still. His anger was ebbing, but he was still afraid to move. "I don't think I will ever see you again. More than likely, you're going to go out and get yourself killed in the name of something you probably don't even remember anymore. But you're right. It's your choice. It is your decision."

With that, she pressed her lips to his, lightly, then turned and walked to the door. Her hand hovered at the pressure pad. "Marnaara and I care greatly about you, Dar. You're not as alone as you think you are. No matter how terrible you are to yourself. We know who you really are."

The door hissed open and shut.

Kaleen was gone without looking back.

Dar dropped and sat in his chair for a long time.

He didn't want to get up. He didn't want to finish packing or leave just yet. Having someone so close inside his guard like Kaleen had been floored him a bit more than expected. He had always thought she was just far enough out of reach. But the more he held her at distance, the easier it had been for her to slip under his armor and see the man he really was.

And now she was gone. Dar hated himself for it. It just added more fuel to his rage inside. The more his rage burned hotter, the angrier he got, the more it motivated him to run into certain death.

After what felt like about an hour of sulking in on his emotions and pushing them deep down inside once more, he stood and finished gathering his weapons and storing them in his duffle. Kaleen had folded and packed his clothing and personal items, so there wasn't much left to do.

Getting up, he moved to the dresser and picked up his helmet. Sliding it on, and his suit connecting to his helmet seals, he gave the room one last one over, before going to his duffels and hefting the straps onto his shoulders. On his way out, he took his array-blaster from the table and holstered it at his thigh.

After locking up the apartment, turning in his key code, and leaving the complex, he headed out onto the streets for The Needle.

It had crossed his mind to get an air speeder cab to give him a lift to the center of town where the space port towered into the cloudy skies. Like the morning previous, it had rained. But today the storm had settled in over the city, and as the day wore on, the clouds only darkened and the rain came harder.

Thunder rumbled through the air, and it seemed to Dar that the planet had just adjusted itself to his mood. He trooped down the sidewalk as the rain only began to fall harder. Citizens began to run for cover, lest they were completely soaked from the rain.

In his suit, though, he didn't care. The weather didn't bother him anymore than his thoughts did.

He hated being stuck in a moment of quandary. One of the best things in his life had walked out on him. And it annoyed him, for some reason. What made it worse was she had done so because of _his _choice to walk out on her.

Dar's fist swung out and he punched a light pole with an audible clang. _Argh_! He was so frustrated! So much in fact he didn't see the old beggar woman sitting under an over hang reach out and snatch his wrist.

"Such turmoil, I sense in you, Mandalorian!"

Dar reacted on instinct spun on her, drawing his sawed off array-blaster from the holster on his thigh with his free hand and aiming it in the old woman's face. She had dark, weathered skin with wrinkles and faint, old tattoos; clothes of rags and fabric patched together. Around her neck and wrists she wore beads and bones laced together on leather cords.

She was undaunted; blind white eyes rolled in her head as she mumbled something at him. "You have a terrible road you walk, young Mandalorian. Adie senses many things about her, and you be a roilin' with dark clouds as the skies above Zaffar."

"Let go, old woman, or you wont be sensing anything at all." He tugged his wrist away, only to have her tighten her grip.

"You don't be understanding,_ Kyr'bes'alor_—" Her speaking Mandalorian drew him up in surprise. "—You be The Skull King. And a throne of many skulls you will sit upon!"

Dar jerked his arm again, freeing himself. "Shut up, you crazy old coot. You don't know what you're babbling about."

"Ooooh, but I do, _Kyr'bes'alor._ Adie knows many of things of which she speaks. Darkness you will face before glory that you seek. Sense it I do." Then she gasped, her eyes going wide. "You must take it!" She scrambled her hands through her robes, before coming up with something in her fist. She took his free hand again, and forced the item into his palm. "Take it! Wear it with pride, must you, _Kyr'bes'alor_! The Skull King must have his icon!"

He tore his arm free again, and looked at the item in his hand. Tied to a leather thong, he stared in astonishment at what she gave him. It was a bronzium casting of the _kyr'bes_, the Mythosaur skull. A long standing icon of Mandalorians.

She grinned up at him knowingly, her blind eyes seeming to find his even behind the tinted visor. "Adie knows who you become, Skull King. Adie knows. Burned into your arm it is. Destiny? No! But surely fate from the stars."

Dar looked at his arm. Under his wrist gauntlet, under his jump suit sleeve, the old woman knew of his tattoo. The blue inked _kyr'bes_ with a crown of fire on the back drop of his home world's night sky. What else could she be referring to?

"Understanding the young Mandalorian warrior comes to. Oooooh, hee hee! Adie knows, she does." She cackled quietly to herself. "Go now. Wear your icon proudly, Skull King. Mand'alor you are not. But King of Skulls you shall become. Much death awaits you. Including your own."

With that, she hunkered back against the wall under the shop awning, far back from the rain as she could be.

He holstered his array blaster and stared at the pendant in his hand. Looking down at the old woman, she'd reverted to rocking back and forth and mumbling to herself, as if the interaction between the two of them never happened.

Cautiously, he started to walk away, keeping an eye on her in his helmet's 360 degree view until he was down the street and far away. He tucked the necklace and charm into one of his pockets, and hurried up to reach The Needle.

Upon reaching the star port, he made his way through the different security check points before being granted access to the turbo lifts that took him to the landing bay his starship was berthed.

Thankfully, dealing with security and keeping his guard on focus helped him keep Kaleen and the crazy old woman Adie from his mind.

Just as he had left it the last time he'd seen it, his black and blue G1-M4-C Dunelizard, a MandalMotors produced star fighter, was still sitting on the duracrete landing pad inside landing bay. He stowed his gear into the cargo compartment and settled himself into the cockpit.

The start up systems in his fighter was standard, and didn't take too long for the fighter to be green lit and ready for take off. As he waited on the port control to give him his outbound vector, he checked his navicomputer for hyperspace coordinates. It would take him about a week, due to the fact he would have to stop on the way to refuel and rest. He wasn't in a full-sized ship, and couldn't meditate in hyperspace like a Jedi could.

Just as port control pinged him and fed his exit vector into his ship's computer, his commsystem alerted him of an in coming message. He ignored it, as the screen showed who it was from.

The messaged beeped at him a few more times, before being directed into his storage file for later viewing.

With a course laid in, and his exit vector approved, Dar lifted his nimble little fighter off the landing pad and out into the cloudy Zaffar skies. Once clear of The Needle, he pushed the throttle on his sublights and roared into the atmosphere, ripping through the clouds.

The gray skies turned to blue as he went above the cloud level, then faded to black and stars as he broke atmosphere. With a passing fly by to The Cross, he inlaid the coordinates to his hyperdrive.

Zaffar, Ramada Prime and the crazy old woman became but a distant memory as star lights became star lines.

_---------------------------------------_

Mando'a to Basic translations

_ba'buir_ - grandparent (non-gender specific)

_pateesa_ - friend; sweetheart; darling (Huttese)

_gev_ - stop it

_shuk'la _- fragmented, broken, crushed

_sha'buirla _- extreme expletive

_Te Kyr'bes'alor _- The Skull King


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

**H**yperspace.

Colors coalesced around the canopy of the cockpit, shimmering blues and muted ruby reds. Purples and greens swirled with jagged lines of white slashing through.

To some, it was beautiful.

To others, with the right amount of mind-altering intoxicants, it was absolutely hypnotic.

Dar sat nestled firmly and comfortably in the seat of his star fighter, staring out at the mottled colors of hyperspace streaking past. His mind was in a haze, rushing through memories and thoughts. Ideas and passages would lead to concerns and worries, before another random image came to mind and his thoughts were down a new path.

Dar had been in hyperspace for several hours, drifting through the space lanes for Contruum. He decided he would catch a main liner ship where he could dock his fighter and make his way further up the Perlemian to The Wheel, where he could begin his search for the Reapers.

When he had first gone into hyperspace, he took off his helmet and settled it into the nook besides his seat. It would take him roughly thirteen hours to travel between systems from Ramada Prime to Contruum, and he decided to make the best of it.

He had not yet listened to the recording on his message display. When Dar had checked the sender, he chose not to hear what Kaleen had wanted to say. Not yet.

Then curiosity came over him from the events back in the city.

Reaching into his pocket, he dug out the contents, only to find two items pulled free.

The first one had been a small tie-string pouch, with several vials of Ryll inside. Kaleen must have given them to him, hiding it in his pocket at some point. She knew how much he enjoyed the effects of it, especially when she had a direct source of very potent Ryll. He set it aside on the control console until he was ready for it.

The other item had been the necklace the crazy old woman, Adie, had thrust into his hand.

A leather thong was tied in such away to allow the wearer to adjust the length of the necklace in a double fisherman's knot.

He reached up and flicked the light on in his cockpit to get a better look at the bronzium cast pendent. It was roughly the length of his fore finger from tip to tip. It had been molded into a very accurate production of the legendary Mythosaur skull, with a highlighting polish.

What was curious though, as he examined it, was the backside. Across the forehead of the skull was the word '_kote_', or 'glory' in Mandalorian scripting. Then down between the eyes, across the nostril and down the teeth and curved tusks, lines were etched in at angles, representing battles and chiefs slain, according to ancient Mandalorian culture. At the tip of the teeth, and horizontally across where they tusks connected to the skull, swirls were engraved for rebirth, regeneration, and growth, or also actual ancestry.

Dar held it up to the light, rotating it slowly and looking intently at the small pendent. It was well crafted, but there was more to it. More than what met the eye.

The crazy old woman obvious knew something about him. So why did she give him a charm with such depth and meaning?

_Dini'la ruug'la woman… _Dar thought, but despite himself, put the charm around his neck and tightened the string so it was snug around his neck neck armor, the backside and its engravings exposed, resting across the top of his pauldron's neck spat.

After that, he dipped into the Ryll.

The drug had made the trip crawl to a grinding halt, time wise.

But his perception was so skewered he had no idea how long or short the trip was.

The colors outside sure were pretty, though.

After some time, he eventually passed out and began to dream a narcotic induced dream.

A beeping chime awoke him from his sleep. Dar cracked open and eye and saw that he would be dropping out of hyperspace in the next five minutes.

Sitting up in his seat, he twisted his neck one way, and then the next and was relieved with a rapid concession of pops and snaps. "Ah," he sighed as he woke up from the haze the Ryll had put him into. He reached down to his side, opposite where his helmet was stored, and pulled out a water bottle and took several long gulps before putting it back.

Clearing his throat, and finally settling himself he reached out to check his sensors as the beeping started up once more to alert him to the reversion point. Hands on the controls, he disengaged the hyperdrive and soon the brown, green, and blue planet of Contruum rushed up into view when the swirling vortex of hyperspace washed away behind him.

Two moons hovered around the planet and there was a small amount of space traffic arriving and leaving. It was a short trip for Dar to reach planet side, landing in one of the more medium sized cities of the planet's equatorial region.

Contra was a modest city, with two star ports, a moderate sized industrial sector and a flourishing residential and commercial district.

Dar knew that he needed to locate a cruiser that would be traveling up the Perlemian, so after landing and leaving his ship in an open landing pad, he made his way for the star port's commercialized section.

As with most port of calls, this one was full of citizens hawking their wares and goods from ramshackle stands and huts, trying to convince every passer that they had the best goods money could buy, swearing up and down that no one would give a better deal than them.

Many people avoided Dar, quickly making themselves scarce as he strode through the crowds, bristling with his weapons.

At an information kiosk, he found directions to Contruum Space Ways, a ticket office that he could purchase a pass on a star ship that would carry his fighter. But when he went to purchase his ticket, he found that the cruiser wouldn't be in system until the next morning.

_Blast it. Figures I'd have to wait another kriffin' day_, he thought. The star liner wouldn't be in orbit until tomorrow morning local time, so he had time to kill.

Unfortunately, Dar had been quick to notice, Contra was a very upscale, middle class kind of city. There wasn't too much in the way of dive bars and cantinas that he could fit in and relax comfortably without drawing too much awkward attention.

Settling on staying in the star port, he found a small tap café that was relatively near the landing field he'd parked at.

Soon as he entered it, he drew some long and uncertain stares. The light din of the patrons all came to a halt as he stood in the doorway. Mandalorians, and especially short ones, were not a very common sight, even though their numbers were growing now more than ever.

Dar walked through the café, and made his way to the booth in the furthest back that he could find. Easing himself down into the cushions, he began inspecting the available menu before noticing that the backdrop of the café had not yet picked up again.

Slowly he lifted his head. Stares were all addressed in his direction.

"What?" he said, his voice coming out filtered from the voice amp.

That set people back into their ways of life. Slowly conversations picked up once more, but Dar could tell they all had a wary eye directed his way.

A young Falleen woman came to his table, wearing an apron and holding a datapad. She walked fearlessly up to where he sat, but Dar could see she wasn't comfortable with there facing him.

"What would you like to drink, sir?" She asked cautiously.

"Water will be fine."

She noted it into her pad.

Dar went back to looking through his menu. He paused shortly after as the woman was still standing at his table, looking at him.

Slowly he turned his indifferent T-visor up to stare at her.

"Yes?"

"Are you really," she hesitated and her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, "a Mandalorian?"

The seconds ticked by as he just stared at her, then nodded. "I'm also very thirsty."

That made her eyes light up in realization. "Oh, right! Sorry!" And she hurried off to get his drink. It didn't take her long to return with it and her datapad ready to take his order. He selected a local soup special and left it at that. She took the order and scurried off this time.

The rest of his lunch went uneventful. Aside from when he removed his helmet to eat. That drew some stares, as if people were expecting something different than the young man with a couple of scars.

In the middle of his meal, some noise outside, thankfully to Dar's personal opinion, drew the attention off of him.

The door to the tap café banged open and the obvious leader of a swoop gang stormed in with six others following behind him. The leader was a large Dashade, wearing a dark blue pair of trousers and knee-high boots. He was massive with corded muscles, dark eyes and a mean expression across his face. His gang consisted of two large Human males, a female Barabel, an Ishi Tib, Ithorian and two Grans. All of them looked to be fairly mean and from a rougher neighborhood than what Dar thought could be found in Contra.

_Now this_, he thought, _could end up interesting._

They slowly stepped into café, looking around. "Janner? C'mon, Janner, its time to pay up, buddy boy!" the giant Dashade was saying.

The Ishi Tib found him. He was ducked in a booth two over from where Dar was currently sitting. "Found 'em, boss! Tryin' ta sneak out th' window!"

Janner, as it turned out, was of a feline species Dar had never seen before. The Ishi Tib caught him by the collar and dragged him into the center of the café.

Idly, Dar continued spooning his soup.

As the Dashade stepped forward, clawed hands flexing and a malicious grin on his face seemed to grow, a Rodian and a Human from another table stood up.

"Leave him alone," the Rodian said. "He's done nothing to you!"

The Barabel hissed, "You sssstay out of thiz one!"

Janner squirmed as the Dashade picked him up by the front of his shirt. "You never paid for that job we did for you, punk. You know we don't like it when people skimp out on us."

"T-Tos, it wasn't like that! I s-swear! I just haven't gotten paid yet, is all!"

Tos sneered. "That's not my problem. You don't have my money, then I take it out of yer hide."

Tos was about to throttle the little feline's throat when the Rodian picked up a chair and smashed it over the back of Tos' head.

The Dashade slowly just turned his head and growled deep in his throat, and the Rodian suddenly looked terrified at the prospect of what he may have just unleashed.

Dar took a sip of water, as all pandemonium broke loose in the small café. People screamed and shouted, fists and bodies were thrown while punches and kicks were landed. The café that had once been peaceful, if not tense with the Mandalorian sitting in their midst, was now a mad house almost on the same level of bar fights Dar was used to.

A Twi'lek bounced off his table, before diving back into the fray again.

He took his unique helmet and was about to slide it on when out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Falleen woman who had taken his order get struck by the Dashade. It had been an accident, but it was where Dar finally drew the line.

With his helmet on, he stood up.

The entire tap café came to a sudden stand still as he faced the room; his dark T-visor zeroed in on Tos, whom had the Rodian caught by the collar of his shirt. The Rodian's face battered from the beating he had been receiving.

His voice was low and quiet, but came out clearly on his voice amp in the now silent room. "That girl did nothing other than serve me my lunch. Even though the water was slow, her service was fine. I intended on tipping her well." He looked to his left at the Barabel who was locked in combat with a Cathar. To his right he saw the Ishi Tib entangled with the Human who had stood up to Tos with the Rodian.

"Now I have to wipe the floor with every single one of you _osik kovid_ Hutt spawning _chakaar sha'buirla_."

And thus the brawl was on again, as he first dove left for the Barabel. Knife pulled from the upside down sheath on his blue and grey trimmed chest plate. He buried it to the hilt between the thick protective scales in her neck, and severing a major artery. She dropped hissing and scratching at her neck before she ran out of blood and collapsed on the floor.

The Grans and Ithorian all lunged at the same time with the Ishi Tib and two Humans rushing up behind. Dar had already reached down and reverse handle gripped his knives from the shin sheaths he had. Slashes were made and crimson liquid streaked the air. One of the Gran fell, holding his throat while the other one stumbled away missing an eyestalk.

The Ithorian went to punch him, but Dar lunged in and gave him a solid head butt between the eyes, followed by several punches to the chest and neck, before kicking him away.

As the Ithorian tumbled back, the two Humans charged at the same time from behind, while the Gran with the missing eyestalk came back from the front. Dar threw his knife just as he was tackled, striking the Gran in the center of the face. The blade disappeared with a fleshy _thwack_, also buried to the handle.

The two Humans were hoping they would be able to take him down by tackling him. Dar landed with a thud in his armor plates, but with no damage from them. One of the two Humans tried to crawl above him, but Dar twisted around and punched him in the face twice, and then backhanded him once with the back end of his armored gauntlet. The man spun away and off of him.

The other one, off to the side, was kicking Dar in the ribs as hard as he could. Pain shot up with each strike in the unprotected spot in his armor. He reached up and stabbed him by the inner thigh with the knife he still had in his hand. The man screamed out, distracted long enough that Dar could roll over and bring the man down onto his face.

Positioning himself atop the man, he reached down and pulled the head and twisted the face back so it was looking him in the T-visor. The man quit fighting after that.

The Ithorian came up behind Dar; both hands clasped together and clubbed him in the back of the head, which knocked him forward. He rolled over and kicked both feet up as the Ithorian came at him again. He knocked the Hammerhead away, and hopped to his feet. The Ithorian charged him once more, swinging his fists wildly. Dar ducked, weaved and blocked each swing, which brought him closer and closer into the Ithorian's reach. Soon he was up close, twisting one of the Ithorian's arms back into an unnatural direction. The Ithorian yowled in pain from stereoscopic mouths, before Dar sunk the knife into his hunched back and shoved him away.

The Mandalorian felt the slash in his left arm just as he reacted to move clear. The other Human had taken the knife from the dead Barabel and snuck up on him. With a curse he held his upper arm, which now had a mild cut across it. "_Echuta_!" Before the man had time to react, Dar's fist flew in and broke his nose. But the large man's eyes just went wide and he slashed at Dar with his own knife.

Dar backed away, deflecting a thrust and stab with his wrist gauntlets, protecting himself from being struck. The man growled in frustration at not being able to break Dar's defenses. He had the clear advantage, and Dar knew it. Dar had to get a weapon of some sort to even the score.

As the Human backed Dar up, who kept sure footed not to trip over anything, he saw an eating knife on the abandon booth table next to his side. Dar snapped a quick punch into the man's face again, setting him back long enough to pivot and grab the knife. With a yell of rage the large Human lunged in again with his blade, looking for any openings on Dar.

The two parried back and forth with knife strikes for a few moments longer. Then Dar noticed an opening in the man's fighting pattern and struck out with his blade. In a flash the man's inside wrist tendons were severed, causing him to drop the knife in pain.

That was the opening he needed. He went in close and stabbed the man in the heart, thrusting the blade deep to the hilt. After a moment, and twisting the blade several times, he stepped back and let the man fall to his knees and flop to the floor.

By the time Dar had turned to check on the Dashade's location, Tos was standing off to the side with the young Falleen woman's neck clasped in his clawed hand. "You think you're kinda' tough, don't ya Mandalorian?" Dar easily heard the hint of concern in the Dashade's voice.

He calmly bent over the retrieved his chest knife from the floor, wiping the blood off of the wickedly shaped blade on his pant leg. His other knife was taken from the Ithorian's back and replaced to its calf sheath. Finally, he walked over to the dead Gand and took a hold of the grip of his blade. It took several tugs, but he eventually pulled it out with a grunt and put it back into his other calf sheath.

The Dashade was getting fidgety watching Dar practically ignore him. Dar was more concerned with cleaning off the blades than facing off with Tos. Once that was done, he straightened up and looked at the towering Dashade who still held the girl threateningly. In the distance, Dar could hear emergency sirens blaring as the fight had surely caused enough commotion for security enforcement to intervene.

"You can either let her go, and face me one on one. Or I can just drop you and make you go down like a chump. Its your choice, _hu'tuun_." Dar, carefully removed his helmet and set it on the booth table he had once been sitting in. "But I swear that if you harm her, you will die in a far more painful way than you will if you just let her go."

As if to emphasize his point, Dar stepped on the face of the groaning Ishi Tib, and thrust his foot across and down towards the floor. The pudgy alien's neck twisted sharply with a pop and he was no longer trying to get back up.

With a growl, Tos threw the girl aside and charged towards Dar. Dar matched him, running forward with all his speed and the two clashed. The large Dashade easily grabbed Dar by the throat and hefted him up one handed. With a roar, he spun and threw the Mandalorian into a table, which shattered into splinters.

Rolling over to his hands and knees, Dar had about three seconds to breathe before the massive Dashade's foot kicked him in the stomach, launching him over and into another table, which fell on top of him.

With another roar, Tos pulled the table off of Dar and picked him up by the ankle and lifted him upside down. "You're not so tough, Mandalorian! You shouldn't had sheathed those knives!" And then the world spun before Dar felt the wall take the impact of his velocity and he slid to the floor.

The Dashade stalked over to him once more. Dar sat up on his knees and coughed painfully, a trickle of red beginning to drip from his now broken nose.

"Only a _di'kut_," he muttered sorely, "brings a knife to a gun fight."

Tos the Dashade was brought up short as he saw Dar now had his double-barrel array blaster in hand. Eyes went wide in surprise in the moment the Mandalorian pulled the trigger. With a loud blast, a massive hole developed through the side of the Dashade's flank.

Tos tumbled over. Dead.

"_Sooran, shab…_"

Dar sat on his knees for a moment as the adrenalin started to fade off and the pain began to settle in. He holstered the array blaster, and twisted his neck carefully, popping the stiffness out of it.

He slowly started to struggle to his feet when the slender form of the Falleen woman was at his side helping him up.

"Let me help you," she said quietly. "Careful, you're hurt, Mandalorian."

"Oh, it was just a good time," he muttered. Looking to his helmet, he stumbled back to his original booth to retrieve it. "But we need to go. Now."

She nodded as he clipped the helmet to his belt and guided him from the café floor to the kitchen, and then out the back door. The sirens were close now, pulling up to the café. The Falleen woman lead them through the back alley swiftly until they were clear from the café and the mess that had occurred there.

_---------------------------------------_

Mando'a to Basic translations

_dini'la _- crazy

_ruug'la_ - old

_di'kut_ - idiot

_"Sooran, shab."_ - Contemptuous and triumphant comment - like "suck on that, chum!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

**I**n their escape from the café, Dar could feel for certain he had been given a concussion from the fight, probably from when the Dashade threw him into the wall.

The Falleen woman helped hold him steady as they walked, allowing him to rest his weight on her shoulders.

Dar knew he had to keep his eyes open, be focused on the moment at hand. But his head was swimming now, his mind fuzzy and unable to stay on course.

He stumbled over his feet, and fell over like a sack of grain, his dead weight too much for the slender Falleen to carry.

Looking up, he could see the afternoon sky above the rooftops from the alley ground. To his right was a dumpster with trash. He couldn't understand why, but the green metal canister was just so prominent to his attention.

Then he blacked out.

Dar never dreamed. He hadn't dreamed since he was a little boy back on Rendar. Back when the only worry he truly had was pleasing his mother, grandfather and spending time with his friends..

He remembered in a sudden memory in this newfound dream of training with his grandfather just before they repelled the Yuuzhan Vong from Mandalore. It was late spring, and they faced each other on the riverbank of the river that flowed behind the old Kyram Clan farm.

All but eleven years old, Dar was a small boy with an unruly mop of blonde on his head. His grandfather was a big man, broad shoulders and short dark hair. His voice was deep and warm, but firm and powerful.

"Now Dar. Keep your back straight this time. Don't slouch, keep your head up, boy."

In their hands, they both held wooden mock ups of _beskad _blades. Dar came in at his grandfather again, and the clack of wood on wood echoed off the trees. He swung the carved wood with the precision his grandfather taught him. Though not yet near mastering it, he was holding his own against the older man.

They sparred for hours, Dar remembered, as the hazy moment was lost to the blackness, only to be replaced again.

He was younger and scared. Terrified at the noises outside of his small box.

Screams echoed through his dream, and he looked through the peek hole. It was his mother. She had been beautiful, once. But now all he saw was her face, frozen in terror with her mouth gaped open, and no sound coming from. She used to sing beautiful songs for him. That night of terror reigned on him for years, he remembered.

Then laughter. Deep, terrible laughter echoed and a large shadow fell into the room and scooped the body of his beautiful mother out of sight.

Dar saw a face. It was a mean, sneering face with many a piercing and tattoo. That face burned into his mind, and began laughing, harder and harder until that's all that Dar heard into the fading darkness again.

Dar's eyes snapped open with a start. His body ached, all over. His head throbbed and pounded like he just spent a night in a Zeltron pleasure den with a direct line to the finest narcotics money could never afford.

Darkness filled his view, save for the dim light out of the corner of his eye.

He first noticed the low ceiling above him, and the soft cushiony blankets around him.

It was hard to place when he last slept in a bed this comfortable. But it didn't help his throbbing head, no matter how soft the pillow he rested on was.

He didn't move, but searched the room with his eyes. It was small, drab, and plain with nothing of importance or interest. There was a window above him, with only darkness showing through the glass and a door across from him, shut.

Slowly he sat up and took further stock. A nightstand with a tall pitcher of water and an empty glass sat next to the bed, and his helmet was sitting next to the pitcher.

_Where the fierfek am I? What happened?_

At the foot of the bed was a cedar trunk and footboard, his armor and clothing folded resting on it, his weapon belts hung from the bedpost. Looking at himself under the covers, he saw he was just in his under shorts.

Then he remembered the fight in the café. That just served to make his head throb even harder.

Flashes came to mind. A Falleen serving him water. A green dumpster. Blood. Oh, _Manda'yaim_ the blood.

He remembered green. There was lots of green.

The door hissed open quietly, and it tore his attention from his thoughts to the silhouette at the door.

He dove for the bedpost where his blaster belt was hung. Only to cry out in pain as he felt something rip in his left arm, the pain suddenly dropping him to the floor.

"Oh, no!" He heard the silhouette cry out. Then she was above him, the young Falleen woman trying to ease his movements. "Don't move, you're only going to make it worse. Lay still!"

Dar looked up, and saw dark curly hair framing a slender green face. He'd never really taken in her details at the café. "Who are you?" His voice came out hoarse from not speaking in… How long had he been out?

"Ssh, Mandalorian. Quiet. Lay still. You tore the stitching out. Don't move." She eased him over onto his side, and then reached over to the drawer in the nightstand. She frowned as she took his left arm into her lap. "This is going to hurt. Again."

His eyes went wide in pain as she began carefully removing the former stitches, then replacing them with the new thread.

"Fierfek!" Dar cursed, a string of words following that he jumbled from all corners of the galaxy. The Falleen woman didn't flinch, and just continued with her mending until the knife wound had been stitched closed again.

"It didn't look deep earlier, but it was worse than I thought when I got your armor off of you."

She helped Dar ease himself into a sitting position once more, his back against the bed. He now got a good look at her. She had the small ridges that most females of her species had on their brows and temples, and also a head of thick black hair that curled to her slim shoulders.

She was pleasant to look at, and he could recall waking up in far less appealing places with even less appealing partners.

"Who are you?' He repeated again, while she moved away to get a glass of water for him.

She came back and knelt besides him once more, adjusting her ankle length skirt so she was comfortable. "My name is Jazla."

He took the water and drank it greedily, then looked warily at her. "Why did you help me?"

She smiled gently and took his empty glass from him. "I could easily ask you the same question, Mandalorian."

Dar stared at her as she got up and set the glass on the nightstand. He struggled to get up, and found Jazla stepped forward to assist him. He sat on the edge of the bed and exhaled slowly.

"What time is it?" Dar asked, looking around suddenly concerned.

"Its about 10:30 at night," She said, checking her chronometer. After a moment she spoke up. "It was amazing what you did today."

He shrugged and rotated his arm, testing his shoulder, "Don't mention it."

Jazla poured another drink of water and handed it to Dar. "Do you get into fights like that very often?"

"No," he said between drinks. "Normally I don't let them last that long. I should have shot that dirty _hu'tuun_ between the eyes and been over with it."

The throbbing in Dar's head returned. He looked at her and things started to feel fuzzy again. "I… Really, I need to…" Suddenly things swam out of focus again. He felt himself laying back into the blankets. "Oh, _shab _me…"

"Hey, hey!" Jazla reached over and patted his cheeks hard. "Stay awake, Mandalorian. You can't fall asleep again. You need to stay awake"

"In… In my belt… There's a stimpack… Blue bottle. …Mix with water…" Dar muttered. She looked at him with worried eyes, and then moved to get the stimpack. She retrieved it and opened the bottle, pouring some into the glass with some water.

Dar struggled to sit up until she held his head up so he could drink the water. He gulped it down noisily until it was empty, then flopped back and his eyes closed again.

He reached his hand up and rubbed his face blearily while he waited for the mixture to take their effect.

The Falleen was sitting next to him, her skin dark green of concern. He moaned lightly as the headache subsided.

Dar lay there for a few more moments before opening his eye slowly. He felt his head clearing finally, and sat up slowly. Her arm around his shoulder she helped him sit up.

"What was that?" She asked.

"Stimshot… Battlefield medical stuff. I learned to keep it on me for hangovers and concussions." A smirk crossed his face as he leaned past her for another glass of water.

Dar drank again, and then sighed as he was starting to feel better. He reached a hand up to his cheek, scratching at the thick 'chops. He didn't know why he didn't just take this to begin with. With a sharp twist of his neck, he loosened it up with several rapid cracks, followed with a similar snap the other way to get the rest.

He noticed after a moment that Jazla was staring at him. "What?"

Her eyes were drawn to his. "I wanted to ask you," she started. "Why did you jump into the fight only after the Dashade had hit me?"

Dar felt a little shrug. "There's certain things I can't stand to see. And besides, of the entire café, you didn't fear me. That shows respect."

She nodded. Then slowly she reached out to touch his face, her hand on his cheek. "I'm thankful. I am."

Dar reached up and touched her hand. Then leaned in slowly until his lips were on hers. He drew her closer as they kissed, until she put her hand on his chest and looked up at him. "You really shouldn't, not after that fight today."

He tilted her chin up gently with his fingertips. "I'm fine, now. You patched me up and that stimshot'll take care of my hangover."

"Still…" She hesitated a moment, but before she could decide further, Dar was kissing her once more with a bit more heated passion until she relented and kissed back while her green skin started to flush into a pink hue.

The next morning, Dar woke early. Jazla lay curled next to him, seeking the warmth of his body. Dar carefully untangled himself from her embrace, and quietly gathered his gear together and dressed.

When he stepped outside of her small home, the sun had barely risen and he wasn't quite sure where the spaceport was. But he had time before he was to dock with the star liner.

He found directions at an information kiosk. Following the directions, he had made it to his fighter just as the sun was breaking the horizon and the city was bathed in its warming golden glow.

Within minutes he was on his way into orbit, passing through the atmosphere to the docking location of the star liner.

It was a massive ship; three open hanger bays for cargo ships loading in the keel while the upper decks was linked by many smaller shuttles from the planet with passengers to unload. With his information transmitted to the docking captain, he was permitted clearance and landed in the assigned berth for his fighter in the stern docking bay.

He removed himself and his clothing duffel from his ship, set the locking codes, and took the turbo lift to the upper decks. He had just found his bunkroom when the ship's captain called over the ship wide commsystem that they were about to leave orbit.

As the massive space liner pulled away from Contruum and prepared for hyperspace, Dar sealed himself off in his room and settled in for the three-day trip for The Wheel. He had plenty of time to rest up before he would be deep in the Reapers territory.

_---------------------------------------_

Mando'a to Basic translations

_beskad _- a slightly curved saber of Mandalorian iron

_shab_ - screw (commonly used expletitive)


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

**S**itting in a dive bar in one of the countless casinos on The Wheel, Dar nursed on a stout, dark ale slowly. As much as he wanted to be drunk right now, he knew that this was neither the time nor the place.

The massive space liner had come out of hyperspace, docked to The Wheel and unloaded its passengers and cargo. Dar had flown his fighter from the space liner into another docking bay on one of the hundreds of docking spires that spiked off the hub of the space station.

His currently bitter attitude was the results of listening to the messages he'd received and not picked up until now.

The first message was from Kaleen. He had ignored it until docking his fighter in the hanger bay of The Wheel, and partially wished he still had. She had spoke about how she was sorry for simply walking out on him and hoped that he would return safely. She cared, deeply, about his well being and only wanted to see him happy.

She would go on to say that she understood he had a lot of personal, emotional scar tissue that he had to be deal with. She hoped that while facing his past and the trauma it had caused him, he would not forget his future and understand that he had as much right to be happy as anyone else.

She loved him, and hoped to see him again.

For some reason, as he sat there drinking his ale and mulling over his thoughts, that message rankled him in a way he was not comfortable with.

What was bothering him the most, though, was the message he received after Kaleen's.

It was a purely audio recording, and was spoken by a male with a deep voice and thickly accented dialect. The r's were heavily rolled and pronounced, with sharp consonants and drawn vowels. Dar guessed it was somewhere close to Chiss space in origin.

"Hello, Mandalorian," the recording had said. "You have made very big mistake. Although very low on the fusion pole, Darm'lacor was still member of the Reapers. This cannot, and will not, be tolerated by any means. You will be punished. You, Dar Kyram, will not be able to hide from us. We shall find you and we will make you pay dearly."

Dar was already away of this, and at this point was annoyed. But the next portion of what the mysterious voice had to say is what put him in his sour mood.

"In light of this action against us, we have made it very serious indeed that you are punished. We will receive our payment in your hide. But, in off chance that you cannot be found, Mandalorian, we will take our payment in the form of two associates of yours.

"You may be familiar with the names Kaleen and Marnaara, yah?"

Dar was suddenly sick at this revelation.

"You have two weeks in which to be found, Dar Kyram," the voice continued. "And if in this time period you are not found, then your two associates will very much be wishing you had been. Do not disappoint me, Mandalorian. I am not a man you wish to upset. Two weeks, Dar Kyram. We will be seeing you shortly."

Then the transmission went blank.

Dar didn't know what to do. He had traced the transmission back to the location, easily finding the base of the Reapers off in the depth of their territory. Unfortunately it was three-day hyperspace trek that he could simply not do in his star fighter, and he knew he couldn't just hire someone to fly him out into the middle of a feared pirate gang's territory.

In the depth of the dive bar, Dar sat at a corner booth minding his own business. It was dimly lit; the other patrons paid him no more mind than a cursory glance and ignored him in the most part. He was very much in favor of being left alone.

Clad in his armor, armed to the teeth as always, and his helmet sitting on the table next to his glass of ale, Dar was completely lost in his thoughts while trying to formulate a plan.

It was rare anyone could get the drop on him because he'd attuned his senses and awareness to the degree that it took much effort to catch him off guard. But he was so caught up in thoughts about Kaleen and Marnaara's safety, that he was unaware of the sudden mass that had come to his side until the poor lighting was suddenly eclipsed.

"Dar Kyram," said a firm baritone voice with the hint of a Concord Dawn accent.

Dar looked up at the man who stood there. For the lack of better terms, he was a mountain. Standing just a few centimeters shy of two meters and weighing almost a hundred kilograms. The man was massive, even by Human standards, with his large neck and shoulders and thick, muscular arms. His brown eyes were wide, alert and attentive to everything. Stern brows were lowered as he looked down at Dar in the booth.

"Bek," Dar said noncommittally and went back to focusing on his ale.

Bek sat down across from him. He wore his black hair shorter than military regulation, and his skin was a dark tan from many years in the sun. It was the man's garb that was most peculiar about him though, second to his size. Brown leather gauntlets covered his forearms with leather straps wrapped about his upper biceps. He had pants of leather, padded over the knees and thighs while his torso armor was a light set if _beskar_ armor plating.

Dar knew Bek had never bothered to take on the standard jump suit or helmet of Mandalorian _beskar'gam_. For what ever reason, the big man simply preferred to dress in such away that seemed more akin to being out in the wilderness.

"New blades?" He asked, indicating the two _beskad _handles jutting out from behind Bek's shoulders, formed by the X-cross sheath on his back.

A wide grin split his face that sent perfect white teeth shining in the poor lighting. "Forged about three weeks ago. That _ba'buir _of yours knows what he's doing." Bek was sitting up right and straight with one arm up on the booth backrest and his other hand on the table.

"So what are you doing here?" Dar didn't want to play games. He knew Bek's sudden appearance was not by coincidence alone.

The large man's face turned serious once more. "_Gran'buir_ heard from a friend of his that you're about to run out on a suicide run. _Gran'buir _told me to come back you up."

Dar took a long drink of his ale and sighed. "Just can't cut the cord, can he?"

Bek chuckled, "You know how Granyn is. Takes care of his own."

Dar kept silent for a moment. Bek looked out into the bar, catching sight of a pair of lavender skinned women glancing over and whispering amongst themselves. He nodded at them, exposing straight white teeth in his broad smile, then turned his attention back to Dar again.

"I'm not here to talk you out of what you're planning, Dar. In fact, I'm coming to lend you a hand. _Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur, Dar'ika._"

"_Vor entye_, Bek. You're right. Today is a good day for someone to die. In fact, I plan on it being a whole lot of some ones." Dar let a bit of a smile touch the corner of his lips. "Did you bring your ship?"

"Yeah."

"Good. 'Cause where I need to go, I can't get to with my fighter." Dar picked up his glass and downed the rest of his drink. "Here's my transponder code. Locate it in forty minutes and I'll dock with you. We'll talk more afterwards."

Bek named off the docking platform. Dar donned his helmet and stood up, leaving some credits on the table for his tab.

The two Mandalorians left the bar, and Dar left to go gather his ship. After clearing The Wheel's flight control, he was in the location facing the Reaper's territory. Right on schedule, Bek's heavy ship came up into view, pinging his transponder. It was bulky and wide, with massive engine thrusters and a medium cargo belly.

The bay doors started to slide apart like a weird mouth, and Dar eased his fighter inside and landed. The doors closed once more, and when the pressure cycle cleared, he opened his cockpit and climbed out.

Dar knew the layout of the _Brahamah Bantha_ very well. He'd spent many years playing through the interior of the ship and climbing in and out of the inner workings. He knew it almost as well as he knew his own fighter.

As he came onto the bridge, he saw Bek checking through the read outs on his sensor displays. "Where we goin', Dar?"

Dar pulled his helmet off and set it on the console as he settled into the co-pilot's chair.

"We're going to these coordinates," he said as he took the information from his fighter's computer and uploaded it into the _Brahamah's_ navigational systems. "I finally found the man who killed my mother and clan. He also kidnapped some friends of mine. I'm going to kill him."

Bek looked over the information, and arched a serious brow at Dar. "You're sure you want to do this? This isn't a joke, Dar."

"I'm positive," he said, looking back over at Bek.

There was silence for a moment, and Bek tilted his head. "You got a plan?"

Dar sat back in his chair and folded his arms. "So far, just walk up and tell him to release my girlfriends, then kill him."

Bek looked skeptical. "Just like that, huh?"

Dar shrugged. "Pretty much, yeah. Just like that."

Bek's hard gaze seemed to bore into the smaller Mandalorian. After a moment he smiled broadly again and turned to his flight console. "_Kaab'la sa jate dajunar, ner vod. Oya_!" Lay in those coordinates," the big man began prepping the systems through out his ship for the hyperspace jump.

Dar did so, and soon after the _Brahamah Bantha _was rocketing into hyperspace.

_---------------------------------------_

Mando'a to Basic translations

_Gran'buir_ - Reference to Granyn in a fatherly affection

"_Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur._" - "Today is a good day for someone else to die"

_Dar'ika_ - Reference to Dar with brotherly affection

_vor entye_ - thank you (Lit. "I accept a debt")

"_Kaab'la sa jate dajunar, ner vod. Oya!_" - "Sounds like a good plan, my brother. Let's go hunting!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

**T**he _Brahamah Bantha_ broke through the atmosphere of the listed planet twenty-six hours after leaving The Wheel.

Wind sheers buffeted the ship as it came through the upper layers, rocking Dar lightly in his seat restraints while he watched the navigational sensors. The coordinates of the Reaper base came from the planet's southern continent, so he adjusted the computer readouts so Bek would have the proper flight path through the weather patterns.

Soon as they had past below the white and fluffy clouds, the turbulence wasn't as bad. The ship soared through the air, passing over blue lakes and rivers that cut through the rusty colored mesas and plains. The planet didn't have many mountains or foliage; it was near barren everywhere as Dar looked out the view port as they flew for the Reaper base.

The landscape rushed below the ship in a blur as they crossed into the southern hemisphere, where thunderous rain clouds rested on the horizon. The counter on the signal read out was rapidly dropping as they approached their destination.

Soon a large canyon opened before them, and the dropped below the top of the rim to fly through the main chasm, passing the many fissures branching into all directions from it. The counter started to beep rapidly as they flew closer to one of the offshoot fissures and Bek gently pulled the yoke, guiding his ship up the massive side canyon.

As they came to the end of the fissure, and the orange-red walls started to come in more narrow. As Bek brought the _Bantha_ up, they saw the Reaper's base.

The massive, rusting hulk that had once proudly been a _Venator_-class Star Destroyer in the old Republic Navy now rested on the planet's canyon, bridged across the narrow end of the fissure as a gutted skeleton of its former self. The command stalks were now long since gone and much of the ship had sections appear missing, most likely lost to scavenging for parts. The central dorsal hanger was open, exposing the landing bay and scattered ships inside. Dar noted many of the pirate's ugly fighters sitting in the bay as they passed over.

Dotted in randomized disorder, a field of star ships of all sizes lay littered about the vessel on both bow and stern sides of the fissure. He could see individuals moving about their ships, but for the most part pay them little attention.

"Take us down there," Dar pointed out towards the nose of the base. Bek nodded and their ship lowered to the landing zone.

"Wonder why they haven't shot us down yet," Bek said as he settled his ship on her landing pads gently.

Dar shrugged and started the landing checks on the systems, preparing to shut the ship down. "They probably know its me. Who else would be crazy enough to fly into their home base? Since they practically gave me the location when they left me their message, I'm bettin' they've been waiting for me to show up."

After landing the two Mandalorians suited and geared themselves up before leaving the ship.

Waiting several paces from the _Bantha_, Dar wore his armor, pauldron, and kama proudly with his rack of weapons on him. His three vibroknives polished and charged, his heavy blaster pistol and double-barrel array blaster cleaned, primed and powered along with the two hold outs on his calves.

He looked over his shoulder at Bek walking up to him after setting the security codes and locking up his ship. The big man wore only his leather trousers and bare-armed chest armor like before at The Wheel. He wore a belt with several non-vibro blades and knives at his waist though. With a nod, he met up with Dar and the two marched towards the old war ship side by side.

Weapons and armor clacked lightly on Dar's body as he walked to the nose of the _Venator_-class destroyer. He frowned inside his helmet at the wreckage it had become. Although Dar wasn't a spacer like many hard-boiled Corellians or Kuati, he had a sense of appreciation for a beautiful star ship and the ruins of this once majestic capital ship had a sense of desolation that just seemed to resonate with remorse.

As the nose stretched above them, half buried into a ridge of dark reddish colored dirt, a pair of rust coated metal doors barred their entrance.

"What'd they do," Bek asked. "Rip off some of the hull plating to make the front doors?"

"Looks like it," Dar said, looking around cautiously.

With a groan of protesting metal, the aged doors started to move apart in a swirl of dust being kicked up from the slide tracks. Soon as they reached the extent of their opening, they stopped with a resounding clang.

Bek looked over at Dar, then back inside. "After you," he said and gestured his hand towards the dark entrance.

Dar moved forward, making his way through the dark portal. It took them into a brief corridor, lit by flickering glow panels inlaid to the walls. Various sounds echoed through the dingy base, cries echoing from distant rooms in the ship.

The corridors of the old war ship were corroded and dirty, filthy strips of moss and grime streaking all surfaces. If it hadn't been his helmet filters, Dar knew he'd be offended by the odors. Bek appeared to not be bothered by it, but Dar would wager he was keeping composer for his professional appearances.

They cautioned their way through the seemingly empty ship. Aside from the people who had been seen outside on their approach, the base seemed relatively empty.

"I don't like this," Bek said as they cautiously made their way through another corridor.

"_Ni n'ebin_, Bek."

They moved on further through the ship until they came through a series of bulkheads that opened up into the main dorsal hanger.

The central section of the hanger was exposed to the open sky as the hanger doors were retracted. Along the sides of the corridor was the docking pads that had once housed many a clone vessels, but now filled with an array of motley looking star ships of various class, designations, makes and models. Around all of the ships, their owners gathered. All as unpleasant looking as the ships they flew in.

Bek looked over at Dar, "_Jehavey'ir_?"

Dar stared down the gathering of pirates as they emerged from the docking bays and stepped into the main flight corridor. They started slapping their armor or clapping or stomping feet, while others started shouting and jeering.

"Definitely an ambush," Dar replied, as he stepped out of the door way and into the gauntlet.

The rows of pirates surrounded them, and moved in close as the two Mandalorians made their way through the hanger, heading towards the far end. The pirates crowded in, ranks of men and woman of many species hooting and calling their threats in an attempt to draw the two men into a conflict.

A man stepped out of the crowd and started speaking in Huttesse, issuing threats and challenges. Dar and Bek stepped around him and moved on down the landing corridor.

The crowd became more riled up, their energy and animosity growing with each step the warriors took towards their destination. Dar didn't waver any, knowing full well the danger he would be in should he accept one of the pirate's attempts to fight.

Objects began to fly through the air, landing in their path as they walked. Trash at best, offensive waste at the worst. Dar felt an old boot pelt him against his armor, rotten food spatter across his leggings. But he never lost his composer and kept his resolve about him.

In his 360 degree helmet's view display, he saw a Bothan charge out from his left, a heavy bar of metal in his hand. With a shout, he swung the bar towards the back of Dar's head.

Dar spun, his arm coming up and his armored gauntlet taking the brunt of the impact. His finger's grasped the metal pipe and held it. He was so tempted to remove the weapon and beat the Bothan senseless with it, but he felt Bek's hand reach up and cover his own. The big man's hand engulfed his hand gently eased his hand off the bar. "_Ne shab'rud'kaysh. Sur'ar! Taylir shaadlaryc._"

Dar took a calming breath and moved away from the Bothan and the challenge he had almost accepted. The two of them walked side by side, knowing how quickly things could change for the worse.

As they came towards the stern end of the hanger, a large man stood with a half circle of men behind him, and a jagged throne made up of junk and ship and mechanical parts that could not be repaired.

The sun had settled behind the ominously thundering clouds off on the horizon, barely in view outside the hanger bay, and so lights began to flicker into illumination and cast a hazy, sickly yellow glow over the debris filled hanger.

Dar and Bek walked up several meters away from the man and his throne and planted themselves; standing their ground. The pirates had surged in behind and closed off any hope of an escape route. They were surrounded and the noise had grown deafening as they chanted and jeered while trash was still being thrown at them from the crowd.

Dar stood and took it all. He knew he was not far from death, if all things went wrong. He only regretted bringing Bek into it, but Bek had come entirely of his own free will.

"Silence!" The big man commanded, and instantly the chaotic pirates ended their commotion.

He was big. Very big. Dar would have guessed he was at least the same size as Bek. The man's face was greasy and slick with oil, scars, and jagged tattoos. His bald head gleamed in the dirty lighting, which glinted off the gold chains that dangled from his left nostril to his left ear. Piercings lined his ears and there were several in his lower lip.

The man stepped forward, swathed in layers of tattered coats and clothing, dirty pants were hidden behind sashes wrapped about his waist that hung down his side. His dark eyes seemed to glean with unbridled fury, but contained with deadly passion.

"So," his thickly accented voice echoed in the hanger. "This is the Mandalorian dog who killed poor Darm'lacor. I miss him very much, you know. Like all of my followers, Darm'lacor was a good friend of mine."

Dar stood still, his T-visor not moving an inch.

"Hm. So. The Mandalorian who hides his face hides his voice as well. No matter. You are scum, Mandalorian." The man walked a few more steps forward without fear. "You think you are so powerful and better than honest working pirates. But you are not."

Dar inclined his head. "Shut your mouth, you _gett'se sooranirla hu'tuun_! You wouldn't know a thing about honor, Kijjar Vicant!"

The big pirate feigned hurt, before a heavy laugh boomed from his chest. "Hah! You speak my name like you have death wish, little Mandalorian!" The entire crowd of pirates began laughing in with their leader.

"What is your name, little Mandalorian?"

"Dar Kyram," he said defiantly. "And I've come here for two things. Number one!" Dar held his finger up in the air for all to see. "You have two people who do not belong to you. I've come for my friends who have no part in what you and I have to deal with!" Then he held up his second finger. "Then after you have released my friends safely to me, I'm going to kill you for destroying my entire family and everything I had ever known. Thirteen years ago you raided a small village on the moon of Rendar and killed everyone I know. For that, I will kill you, Kijjar Vicant, in the name of my mother and every member of my clan who died at your command!"

Hooking his thumbs in his belt, Vicant seemed to roll the taste of this on his tongue. "Hm. Very interesting, little Mandalorian. You bring up memories from long ago that I hadn't enjoyed in very long time. I killed many mothers that day, little Mandalorian. I killed and raped and enjoyed many of them before that day was finished. I wish I were to know who yours was, so that I might enjoy watching you die this day with that knowledge in your head. Though, I find it humorous that you come into my home, my domain, and make threats and demands as if you believe it works this way, yah?"

He whistled and snapped his fingers. There was a commotion behind the crowd of pirates behind Kijjar. He stood there smiling at Dar as Kaleen and Marnaara were brought forward.

"Dar!" Kaleen cried. She and Marnaara's clothing were dirty tatters and they were smudged with grime and soot. The Iktochi who brought them out from the crowd had them chained by the neck.

"I believe these to be your friends, little Mandalorian?" Kijjar walked up to the girls, caressing Kaleen in a very lecherous manor. "Very beautiful they are, yah? You know how much money red Twi'leks sell for in Hutt space, little Mandalorian?"

Dar took a half a step forward, restraining himself with effort. "I swear to the blue moons of Iego, Kijjar… If you hurt either of them, I'm going to gut you myself."

That brought another loud round of laughter from the pirates, and Kijjar himself.

"Little Mandalorian! Look at you! You are in no position to make demands of anything, I would be thinking!" The laughter continued on for a moment before he moved away, looking over the two Mandalorians again.

"But I am a fair and cunning man. Honest in business, yah. We make a little wager, little Mandalorian. You be allowed to battle one of my men, and your women go free, if you live. If you live, though, I keep you and you will learn a new understanding of pain. If you do not," he chuckled and shrugged helplessly. "Well, if you do not win, your beautiful friends do not leave. They stay with me, until my men tire of them. And I assure you, little Mandalorian, there are many men here who have stamina much more than what two little pretty Twi'leks could ever withstand."

Dar stared hard over at Kijjar, and slowly turned his gaze onto the two girls. They were afraid, he could tell. But it appeared that they hadn't been overly harmed so far in the ordeal. "Fine," he said. "But my word still stands. By the time I leave here, you won't be breathing."

From the ring of men that had stood behind him, a Yuuzhan Vong stepped out. He was tall and muscular on a slender, athletic frame, with a large scarring tattoo down the entire left side of his body. "Let me cut out his eyes and give him to the Gods for you, Cap'n. This traitorous Mandalorian speaks blasphemy!"

Kijjar turned and thumped a fist against the crab-armored warrior to his side. "This is Vas Chukka. A survivor of the Great War, who would rather fight for his gods than hide with his people. I will like watching him kill you."

As the huge mob of pirates began to form a fighting ring around them, Bek stepped forward, his hard glare focused on the Yuuzhan Vong. Dar started to protest, but Bek shoved him back with a big hand on his chest. "No. You're going to need your strength to kill Kijjar. I'll take this _Vongese._ He's not good enough to fight for the honor of a Mandalorian's clan."

Bek stepped forward as the Vong warrior stepped into the circle, his amphistaff coiling about his arm in anticipation. "I challenge you, Yuuzhan Vong. I challenge you in this fight, in honor of my _vod._ I do so, because when this fight is over, he will need every bit of strength to kill the rest of you."

"Now this is interesting," Kijjar said as he settled himself on his throne to watch the combatants. "Little Mandalorian stands back while his friend decides to fight. Much honor you have, little Mandalorian," he chided in a mocking voice

Bek stalked in the battle circle confidently, staring down his opponent with his fierce gaze, muscles flexing as he prepared himself to fight.

Vas Chukka uncoiled his amphistaff into his hand and twirled it in an expert fashion, showing how well trained he was as he spun it around his back and over his head. He ended with a ready stance that was as fierce as his appearance.

Bek stood there, staring down the Vong, not moving an inch. He calmly reached behind his back and unsheathed his two _beskad _blades, giving them a brief twirl in his grip. "Do you think you've got what it takes to take me down, _Vongese_?"

"By the will of the Gods—"

"_Cuy ogir'olar tion'gar mirdir,_ _gar osik eparyc Vongese hu'tuun_!"

That brought the Vong up short, his eyes blazing in anger. He shouted something in his own language and ran for the bigger man, staff spinning for the attack.

Bek responded in kind, letting the Vong attempt to spear him with the sharp, tail end of the staff. He blocked and parried the staff aside, sidestepped, moved in and a massive fist punched Vas across the face. Two more swings broke the Yuuzhan Vong's nose before he stepped back and gave some ground to Bek. He cursed and spit black blood, before screaming and attacking once more.

The thrusts from the blade caused Bek to move back, avoiding the sharp tail once again as it slashed before his face, narrowly missing contact. He dodged in once more and struck with his elbow, jamming it hard into the throat of the Vong.

Gagging, the Yuuzhan Vong spun away, but swung his staff low, knocking Bek's feet out from under him and dropping him onto his back. Shouting out, he swung the head of his amphistaff down, just as Bek rolled away and the serpent's head bit the durasteel plating where Bek had just been.

The Vong was relentless though, and drove in closer, swinging in a knee to catch Bek in the chest plate. The big Mandalorian was knocked onto his back once more. Taking the opening, Vas moved in with his staff, stabbing at Bek's torso.

As the amphistaff came down, Bek swung his blades, battering it aside and preventing his stomaching from being speared.

He rolled back over his shoulder, coming to rest on a knee and foot. Instinct fueled his movements and his arm came up, to block another slash from the amphistaff with his _beskad_. This left his other arm free and he swung out before him. The Vong screamed a cursed as he felt his belly armor was struck. That made Vas leap back as Bek returned to his feet again. The two slowly circled each other.

The blade hadn't cut through the Vonduun crab armor, but made Vas painfully aware of what Mandalorian _beskad _could do. The two eyed each other down as they pirate crowd began to get restless for a close to the fight. Shouts echoed through the landing bay for blood to be spilt, and it didn't seem to matter who's now.

Bek moved before Vas. The Vong reacted with an upward slash, hoping to cut Bek at the legs. But Bek was faster, his right-handed blade swinging down to block the amphistaff. He swung his left-handed blade in and found the weak flesh of Vas' neck. The armor protected him from having his entire head removed, but not enough to prevent a deep cut being formed.

Vas dropped his staff and held his neck as a steady stream of black blood began to drain from his now open wound. Bek swung his blades at the amphistaff, which now was attacking recklessly Bek. It avoided his slashes at first, before Bek finally caught it and lobbed its head off.

As Vas fell to the floor, bleeding to death, the entire hanger bay went silent.

Bek stood defiant in the center of the circle. His hard gaze focused on Kijjar.

"Bring the girls to the front!" Kijjar shouted in rage as he leapt from his throne.

The Iktochi brought them forward once more, Kaleen and Marnaara struggling with their chains.

Dar once against wanted to rush to them, but he simply moved himself near Bek, knowing it foolish to do other wise.

"You have no honor, Mandalorians!" The giant man was quivering in anger at the death of his warrior. "You have no sense of the word, little Mandalorian! Letting your friend fight for you while you hide behind him!"

The crowd was starting to get riled up again, their shouts of agreement with Kijjar growing louder.

"You betray honor! You betray wager! There for, you will suffer the consequence for betraying _me_!"

He withdrew a long, viciously curved blade from his belt and stalked towards the Twi'lek women. They started to cry and huddled to each other.

Dar was about to throw his safety to the wind and go to them when he felt himself suddenly restrained as the crowd surged behind them. He and Bek both were over powered and thrust to their knees, arms held behind them.

"Now, little Mandalorian. See my power first hand!" Kijjar took one of the chains from the Iktochi guard and drug Marnaara out of Kaleen's grip. They began to cry harder as Marnaara struggled defiantly, only sliding behind the big pirate. He reached down and caught her by the neck and pulled her to her knees before him, her back pressed against his thighs. Dar watched her cry, right before him, as Kijjar leered before him and Bek. "Tell this beautiful little _schutta_ how it is your fault, little Mandalorian. You kill Darm'lacor and then you come here. It is _your _fault that she now pays your price, little Mandalorian!"

Dar struggled against his captors, unable to reach his weapons. Someone pulled his helmet off his head, and he looked into Marnaara's eyes as she cried and pleaded silently.

"Look at me, Marnaara!" Dar shouted over the crowd of pirates. "Look at me! _Dar chaabar_, Marnaara! Do not fear this, Marnaara! _K'atini_! It's only pain! Remember, Marnaara! Listen to me! Listen to my voice, sweetheart! _Atiniir cyar'ika_!"

Tears flowed down her face as Kijjar just let the crowd get worked up over Dar and Marnaara's emotional display. He grinned an evil malicious grin as he eased the knife down under Marnaara's jaw.

"Say your last good bye, little Mandalorian!"

"_Marnaara_!"

Crimson sprayed across his face and mixed with the tears that streamed down his face. He screamed words that no longer made sense. He was just pure animalistic and fury suddenly, struggling against whatever mighty individual held him in place.

He was vaguely aware of his weaponry being stripped from him. He couldn't pay attention to anything other than the red that clouded his vision, literally and figuratively.

The last thing he saw was Marnaara's body being hauled away into the crowd to the laughter and joy of the pirates. Then the pain. Punches, kicks, clubbing. Every pirate around him began to beat him. He heard Bek, in the distance, struggling and fighting.

There was nothing Dar could do as he felt his face go numb.

And soon everything went black.

_---------------------------------------_

Mando'a to Basic translations

"_Ni n'ebin_" - me either (given negative notation for 'neither')

_jehavey'ir_ - ambush

_"Ne shab'rud'kaysh. Sur'ar! Taylir shaadlaryc!" _-Don't mess with him. Focus! Keep moving.

_"...gett'se sooranirla hu'tuun!"_ - Expletive insult.

"_Cuy ogir'olar tion'gar mirdir,_ _gar osik eparyc Vongese hu'tuun_!" - "It doesn't matter what you think, you dung eating Yuuzhan Vong coward!"

_schutta_ - female derogative (Huttese)

_Dar chaabar_ - "Don't be afraid"

_K'atini_ - "It's only pain!"

_Atiniir_ - Endure, to put up with, to "take it"


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

**D**ar was ten years old. His grandfather stood before him and folded his arms across his barrel chest while watching him. Dar struggled for that final push up, his elbows just barely locking before he collapsed into the grass, feeling the late afternoon heat pressing on.

He was so sore and so tired that he didn't think he could move a muscle, even to drink the bottled of water that was just out of reach.

"C'mon, boy. You get up now. Warriors don't give in to the pain. They don't give into their weakness."

"But… Granpa, I'm so tired…" Dar was tired. He was really very tired.

"Doesn't matter. Warriors, Mandalorians especially, don't give up. They take that tiredness, that pain, that weakness. They make it into energy, into power, into strength. No quitting."

Dar almost began to cry in frustration. He hated crying, especially in front of his grandfather. Granpa would have none of it, and just make life even harder for Dar.

"Get up, boy. We've got work to do before sun down."

Dar started to get even more frustrated, being reminded that he still had to tend to the crop, feed the livestock, then to finish it all off, his evening training after supper.

Life was so much better when he was with his mother. Before the nightmare happened.

Finally struggling to his arms he pushed himself to sit on his knees and look up at his grandfather. They locked eyes for a few moments before Dar pushed himself further onto his feet, standing on wobbly knees.

"It hurts, Granpa. I don't know if I can do it," he said. Then looked down in shame. He couldn't make his grandfather proud; he knew this was just all too hard.

The older man knelt down, and put a hand on his skinny shoulder. "Now listen to me, Dar Kyram. You can do it. I did it when I was half your age. Your mother did it when she was half your age. It's not fair you have got to start out so late learning to be a true Mandalorian. Your mother had high hopes for you to live in a world of peace and not have to be a warrior. But that's not what fate had in store for you. Yes, it is hard, boy. And it's going to get harder. So the only thing you can do now is get hard and push back. No matter how hard it hurts, Dar, you can hurt back. Take it and return it. It'll make you stronger in the end, my boy."

Dar held back a sniffle and looked up at his grandfather's hard, weathered face. His red nose and cheeks, intelligent blue eyes and his thinning black hair. The man had done it all, as far as Dar knew. The man was a powerful Mandalorian warrior.

"I miss your mother just as much as you, Dar. You can't and I can't bring her back. But if you keep training, and turning your pain into power, then you'll be able to see her avenged someday."

Dar nodded slowly, and swallowed the lump in his throat. Even though his knees were like jelly, he stood just a bit taller. That little action earned a hint of a smile on his grandfather's face. "I promise, Granpa, that I'm going to make Mom proud. And I'm going to find the man who killed her. I promise that."

"That's a good boy," Granpa said, as he stood up tall once again. He ruffled up Dar's shaggy hair and smiled. "Now off to your chores. They're not going anywhere anytime soon, and neither are you, boy."

Dar nodded, gathered his water and drank greedily as he headed for the field. He would do what he could to make his mother rest peacefully.

Dar had known pain. He had felt it daily since he was nine years old. If he hadn't felt it from an outside source, he inflicted it himself. Dar was very well acquainted with pain.

But this was a new kind of pain. It was every place on his body from the top of his head to the end of his toes. He hadn't hurt this bad, ever, in his life.

The throbbing ache that was his entirety slowly ebbed as he slowly came to consciousness, his mind crawling out of that black abyss.

Opening his eyes had never been such a difficult process for him. He knew they were bruised and possibly swollen. He felt dried, crusted blood crack apart as his eye lids slowly parted. From the darkness he was met with…

More darkness. But he could see shades of darkness, now.

He was also cold.

With a body stiff as carbonite, he shifted a little from lying on his side to lie on his back. Cold grated metal greeted his bruised and cut flesh and he groaned out in the back of his throat. "Fierfek," he cursed, and felt his cut lips reopen.

As he lay there, he took stock of what he could discern from his situation. It was cold, it was dark, and his wrists were bound together in front of him in a pair of restraint cuffs. _Great…_

Slowly he tested his neck, and craned it one way, then the other. It hurt like all Hell, but at least he could move it. As he started testing his body for movement, he quickly figured he was still capable of being mobile, although he was painfully aware of the cuts and bruises.

Then he suddenly realized why he was so cold. He was naked; stripped of all his armor and gear. "Fierfek," he cursed again.

Dar had no idea how long he laid on his back like that, but eventually he decided he wanted to sit up. He could tell in the shadows there was a wall to his right, so he carefully shuffled his body over, and began inching his shoulders up the cold metal wall.

Once he was sitting up at an awkward angle, he took a few moments longer to catch his breath. It was not good feeling like this.

He half closed his eyes and began focusing on his breathing, now. He focused on pushing the pain from his mind and began formulating his next steps. He was alive for a reason, and thus he would have an opportunity to escape and kill Kijjar when this was all said and done.

As he found control of his breathing, he began a quiet incanting to himself, speaking lowly in _Mando'a_ a string of words that he used to meditate on. He'd much rather have half a bottle of aged Corellian Scotch and a few vials of glitteryll to numb the pain, but the old fashion way he had been taught when he was a child would do fine for the time being.

"You're going to die here," came a soft voice in the darkness.

Dar opened his eyes again, scanning the shadows of the chamber. His eyes had finally adjusted well enough and he could tell a very faint light was coming from bellow the grated metal surface he was on. He couldn't tell the source of the light, but it gave him enough to see by. He noticed now the massive lump of Bek's body in one corner, to his left. Then, to his right was a slender form of all shadows and darkness. But when it moved, he noticed it was a girl no older than him self.

She, too, was entirely naked, and sat in a way to cover herself with her legs and arms over her breasts. Long dark hair that would have probably at one time been smooth and straight was now matted and tangled about her neck. In the dim lighting, he could make out on her left cheek was a slender triangle of cyber-sheet, a cybernetic grafting to her skin. Two green tattoos came down over her left eye in vertical stripes, while a yellow band crossed the bridge of her nose and right side of her face. She was fit and shapely, but bruises and cuts covered her in a similar fashion to him and the motionless Bek.

"What?" Dar said.

"You're going to die here," she repeated. Her voice was soft, but a whispered strength was hidden under it. Dar looked at her blue eyes. He was drawn to them. They were glazed over from hours of pain and violation, but behind them he could see the fiery passion waiting to be unbound.

Dar tried to sit himself a bit more comfortably and trained his attention on her. "Who are you?"

She didn't say anything and simply stared at him.

After several moments of silence, she spoke up. "You and your friend are Mandalorians and you're going to die down here."

Dar narrowed his brows. "No, we're not. I'm not dying down here anytime soon."

His neck was stiff, but he rolled it slowly, testing the muscles to see if he could pop and stretch the tension out soon.

"You have no idea what's going to happen. They're going to torture you."

Dar was getting tired of her defeatism. "Look, lady. If you want to give up, fine. I'm getting out of here."

"You're not the first one to say that," she said with a smirk. "And you wont be the last."

Dar just stared at her; unable to believe someone was so far gone they wouldn't fight to the end.

"Stop looking at me like that." She said, tightening herself up further into a ball.

"Like what?"

"Like all the men do."

Dar rolled his eyes. "Please, you've been staring at me ever since I was thrown in here, I bet."

She said nothing, which made him smirk. "Thought so."

Soon as he was certain he could move under his own power, he slowly managed to get to his knees, then to his feet. He had to lean on the wall with his shoulder for support, but he was on his feet. And that was the first step.

Shuffling step by step, he carefully made his way to Bek and knelt down beside him. Hands went to his thick neck to check his pulse. The man's heart was beating and his lungs were breathing. But as he checked him over, he noticed the solid lump on the side of his head. Bek was going to be out for a while. "Damn it."

Dar moved back to his original spot and sat down again. He ached all over and his jaw was starting to throb. It felt as if a few molars had been knocked out.

The echoing sound of footsteps came from outside the chamber. Soon Dar was blinded by the hiss of the door sliding open and light pouring through. He grunted and closed his eyes in pain.

He couldn't open them up again, but he could hear the lewd chuckling from a male walking into the room. "Time ta go fer another round, li'l lady," the voice said.

The sound of her body being taken from the floor was heard, and her whimpers were a sure sign of where she was being taken and why.

There was a gruff voice speaking in an alien language he didn't understand, but the meaning implied was very much understandable. Especially when the last thing Dar felt was a big boot sole landing between his eyes.

Once again, it all went dark.

It was his sixteenth birthday, and his grandfather told him there a surprise in his bedroom.

Dar went into his room and found a set of deep blue armor trimmed in gray. The plates had been resized to a new vest so that it would fit him, due to being shorter than his grandfather.

"This _beskar'gam _served your grandfather well back in the Clone Wars," Granpa was saying. "And again during the Galactic Civil War. You don't know how many Rebellion officers got a surprised look on their faces when their puny little military issue side arms didn't pierce true Mandalorian _beskar_." There was a proud tone as Granpa told Dar about his exploits in the Clone Wars as a young man, and his days of running from the law and enforcing his own during his later years in the Empire, long before Dar was born.

"I met your Granma in this armor. We were wed and fought off a battalion of Stormtroopers the same day," Granpa said with a big smile. He put his hand on Dar's shoulder, and smiled down at him. "Your mother wore her mother's armor for a long time, before she chose to settle down and have you. And, now as you're old enough to be a man, I want you to have this armor as well."

Dar was speechless. He suddenly beamed up at his grandfather. "I'll wear it with honor, Granpa."

"I know you will, Son. I know you will."

Dar smiled, knowing he was old enough to venture into the galaxy as a grown man by Mandalorian standards. He was also now fully capable of venturing into the galaxy and avenging his mother's death.

Dar was faintly aware of sobbing in the distance. He was far more attuned to the throbbing ache of his face. He opened his eyes and noticed he was still laying on the metal grated floor, no longer in his old bedroom with his Grandfather.

"_Haar'chak_…" He muttered.

Easing himself up into as sitting position again, he rested his shoulders against the metal wall. Bek was still unconscious to his left. Off to the right, the huddled mass of shadows shook gently as the quiet sobs continued.

"_N'eparavu takisit_," Dar said softly.

The sobbing was cut short and Dar saw her eyes glare at him from the darkness. "What did you say?"

"It's Mandalorian. It means I'm sorry."

She just glared. "I don't need your pity."

"It's not pity, _dala_. I don't pity people."

The woman just glared at him some more, before burying her face back into her arms.

Dar was feeling better. In fact, he hadn't really felt despair to his situation, either. He was pretty sure he'd formulated a plan, but he needed to get out of here first. "I need your help."

She looked up again but didn't say anything.

"Do you want out of here?"

She was silent for a few beats. "Yes," she said.

"Good. I need your help, then." Dar told her his plan. It was risky, but it was all they had to chance on. She was skeptical. But he knew that even though she appeared weak right now, her eyes told him how much more powerful she really was.

After they worked out the details of the plan, they had to wait. Dar asked her what she knew of the pirates.

"They have a sick sense of honor," she was saying. "And it's a chaotic anarchy of order. Keep what you kill and take what you want, sort of thing. The only reason no one's challenged Kijjar is because too many of them support him. Say what you want of him, he keeps his word."

That made Dar's mind whirl. It changed his tactic and his plans considerably.

Time wore on, and eventually Bek started to come to.

"Dar?" He called out hoarsely.

"I'm here, _vod_."

"What in the blue nipples of a monkey lizard happened back there?"

Dar shifted uncomfortably against the wall. "My plan didn't work the way I had hoped for. So we're onto plan B."

He watched Bek settle himself up against the wall in a similar fashion. "Plan B, huh? Doesn't sound so bad."

Dar explained to Bek the extent of the plan, who helped him further hammer it into a better escape plan than what Dar had initially come up with. Soon they were all pretty well comfortable with what they'd formulated.

Not long after they finalized the plan, their guards came in on cue. The door hissed open with a flooding of bright light. This time, Dar was ready so he closed his eyes and looked away. He squinted slowly to open his eyes without it being too painful.

He saw a very fat Weequay towering over the woman in the corner, about to pick her up when Bek stepped from the shadows and hooked his cuffs around the guard's neck from behind. Dar was on his feet in an instant, and the dingy Human back up guard standing at the door was tackled into the hallway before he had a chance to raise his comlink.

Dar knelt on the man, head butt him once, then began to choke the life out of him. There was a clang and the Weequay was surely not amongst the living now.

Dar dragged the Human back into the cell, and began patting him down for the keys for his cuffs.

"Here," Bek said and came over to unlock his wrists, having found the keys on the Weequay.

He rubbed his wrists once the cuffs fell free. "Free her," Dar told Bek as he reached down to remove the dead man's clothing and blaster. After changing into the clothing, which was a bit lanky and baggy on him, but would do fine until he found his armor again, he then peeked out into the corridor once again. "It's clear," he said.

Bek appeared at his side with a liberated blaster that he handed to Dar and wearing the Weequay's clothing. The woman pressed between them, wearing the long coat the dead alien had worn. "The exit is this way," she said, pointing down the hall to the left.

"Let's go," Dar said and they hurried out into the dingy lighting. It really wasn't as bright as Dar had initially thought when the dark cell was opened. They hurried along to the end of the corridor to a series of stairs. Moving along them silently, they came up into a holding room that was empty. The two guards they'd killed had to have been the only two on duty.

"The guard's shift change is going to be soon," the woman said. "We need to hurry."

As Dar and Bek inspected the guard's room, with only a small desk and a holoscreen, they found another set of blasters stored in the drawers of the desk.

The woman though, investigated the doors that were not the exit. One of which was a storage room. When she came out, she had found a suit of clothing that fit her slender frame, made no effort to hide her curves. She had multiple belts buckled around her waist and hips, a pair of empty blaster holsters hanging low from them on her thighs. She wore a black nerf hide jacket with padded armor on the elbows and shoulders, which set off the curve of her body in the blue light-armored top she wore.

He felt Bek's large hand thump against his chest, "_Sur'ar, vod_."

Dar rolled his eyes and took point by the main exit hatch. "I am focused," he said.

Bek scanned the room on last time. There was no sign of any other weapons, which wasn't surprising. He handed the two blasters from the to the woman.

Dar knew they could find better weapons as they made their way through the ship. There was bound to be someone with something worth killing and stealing.

Besides, they were Mandalorians. They were weapons themselves.

"Ikeira Sov," the woman said, looking at Dar, and bringing him out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"That's my name. Ikeira Sov."

Dar just smiled, "Dar Kyram. And I told you we weren't going to die down there."

With the two blasters in hand, Dar hit the pressure pad and opened the door. Bek and Ikeira close behind.

They had a pirate to kill.

_---------------------------------------_

Mando'a to Basic translations

"_N'eparavu takisit"_ - Sorry (Lit. "I eat my insult.")

_dala_ - woman


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

**D**ar ran down the corridor with a slight limp. He was still sore from the abusive greeting they had received in the pirate's base.

Bek, Ikeira, and Dar were making good progress as the woman led them from the prisoner holds. She'd made sure to avoid the heavier used access corridors and lounge rooms, taking the quieter back accesses.

Muttering, Bek tore the shirt he wore into strips, due to it being too small for him, even if it had been previously own by the over weight Weequay. "Don't people know how to work out?" He complained, mostly to himself.

They came to another hatchway. Dar opened it and checked through the portal in a cursory fashion. "All cl—" He paused, backed up and whispered, "Never mind."

The hatch opened up onto a catwalk, which spanned across a cargo bay. Inside the bay on the floor below the grated walk way were several pirates sitting around a rotting wood wire reel, playing a game of cards, while smoking and drinking.

Dar pressed his back against the wall as the hatch hissed shut once more. "I counted at least five," he said.

Bek nodded. "Easy enough."

While the two men decided over the next course of action, which of course meant a quick bout of blood shed, no doubt, Ikeira handed a blaster pistol to Bek. "Here, you might need this."

He paused in mid sentence with Dar and looked over at the woman. "Nuh uh." He shook his head.

She hesitated for a second. "Uh… Are you sure?"

"Totally."

"He doesn't like guns," Dar interjected.

"Are you serious? Never heard of a Mandalorian who doesn't like guns," she said in disbelief.

"Bad things happen. Don't like 'em," Bek said and turned back to Dar about their plan to attack the pirates as if they were never interupted.

"There's a flight of stairs on the far side of the hold," Dar brought the group back to focus. "We'll sprint across, make our way down and make a frontal assault on them. Ikeira, you cover us from up on the catwalk. If we're quick enough, shouldn't be too hard to catch them by surprise."

The other two nodded, then Dar moved back to the door. The hatch once again slid open, and the sound of the pirates playing their card game drifted up to them.

Dar mouthed the words and counted with his fingers, …_Three. Two. One!_

With a burst of speed, Dar bolted across the catwalk. He saw out of the corner of his eye that Bek would make it to the pirates before him.

Gripping the handrail, Bek launched himself feet first over the side of the walk, and dropped down to the pirates' card table below.

With a shout of surprise and curses, the five pirates fell back for cover, scrambling for their weapons.

Bek tackled the biggest one of the bunch, a large Trandoshan. The two rolled away in a flurry of punches and kicks.

"There's another one! Cobb, get 'im!" A pirate yelled.

Dar had bolted across the walkway, and was already coming down the stairs. They dropped down a flight to a small landing, with a second flight coming down the opposite way, ending under the catwalk.

As the pirate shouted, he saw the one question heft up a heavy repeating blaster. "I got 'em!"

Dar dove to the landing as the space he had been moving through exploded from the heavy gun's blaster fire. He then fired off a few shots at the man wearing the ridiculous knit hat and shooting at him, before making a leap off the landing in the same fashion Bek had done moments earlier.

"Holy…" The man's cigar fell out of his mouth when Dar landed on him, cushioning his fall, and tumbling away with the sound of clattering blasters and bodies.

Blaster fire rained from above, though, narrowly missing Dar as Ikeira aimed for the other three pirates, who took cover with the table and fired back up at her.

As Dar rolled away, and saw the man named Cobb crawling for his heavy repeater, Dar scrambled after, keeping his head low.

"Eat this!" Cobb shouted as he reached his gun and got to his knees to fire the big blaster. Dar was on him though, launching himself forward and throwing all his momentum into a punch. Cobb fell back once more, dropping his gun again and his bright orange knit hat falling off.

There was a roar from the Trandoshan, and Dar heard Bek challenge it with a yell of his own. But he was focused on the grimy man in front of him, as he crawled over to him and began punching. Cobb got a luck fist through Dar's barrage and caught him in the ribs, which made the air blow from his lungs.

Cobb took the opening to push Dar away. He fell onto his back as Cobb once more stood for his repeater blaster. Not letting Cobb get too far, Dar swept his foot out and tripped the man. Hopping to his feet, Dar kicked him, hard in the face with his boot. Cobb lay still as a few teeth clattered away.

"Dar, look out!"

He turned, and dove as one of the other three pirates Ikeira had been shooting at saw Dar's success over Cobb, and chose to target him while his two partners held Ikeira back with their firing.

He landed, right next to the heavy repeating blaster. Rolling with the dive, he scooped the blaster up and came up on a kneeling position, holding the heavy gun in his hands.

The pirate across from him froze and his eyes grew wide. "Oh, no…"

"Oh yeah," Dar said and squeezed the trigger.

The man was blasted away, falling into the table. The other two looked up to see Dar fire into them as well, while Ikeira fired from above. They were caught in a cross fire and too shocked to fire back before being mowed down with lasers.

There was a loud thud, and Dar looked over in time to see Bek bodily heft the Trandoshan and slam him into the floor. The two struggled for a moment until Bek got his arms around the Trandoshan's scaly neck. A series of pops sounded, and only Bek stood afterwards.

Bek eyeballed the heavy repeating blaster. "Nice toy you found there."

"Thanks," Dar said as he put the strap over his head and shoulder and let the big blaster hang at his side. "I think I'm going to hold onto it."

"Makes a big mess. I like it."

Dar gathered the blasters he initially had, and began stripping the fallen pirates of their weapons. Bek took a large blade off of the Trandoshan while Dar found a pair of vibroknives and another smaller hold out blaster. He confiscated another pair for Ikeira, who was waiting for them on the walk.

She took the blasters and a knife when the two men reached her on the walk, and they continued their way through the back corridors of the ship. They didn't run into any more trouble, and soon found themselves on the flight deck once more. In the distance, they heard Kijjar's booming voice.

"Okay, you sure you know where they're holding Kaleen?" Dar asked, glancing over at Ikeira.

"Of course. She was going to get sold, so Kijjar hasn't let anyone touch her yet. Twi'leks can go for a pretty credit if they're good looking enough."

Dar lifted his brows. "Well, I'm going to take that as a positive note, then. You shouldn't have any trouble. We're going to make a pretty big distraction here in a few minutes."

"I bet you boys are. Soon as she's free, I'll find one of these ships and take her home. But you owe me a little extra for delivery. So you better not get killed."

"Trust me, that's not going to be us. Not today," Dar said pointedly.

She cocked a hip out and put a fist on it. "I'm serious, Dar. If you don't get out of this and pay men, I'm going to come find your spirit, and haunt _you_ into the afterlife."

Dar rolled his eyes. "Would you just get going? We don't have much time for this."

She smirked and moved between them, swishing her hips back and forth with a renewed sense of vigor now that she had a chance at revenge of her own. "Don't you two worry about me, just worry about paying me later," she said with a wink thrown over her shoulder at Dar. Then she was off at a jog to fulfill her end of the plan.

"Crazy woman's gonna get herself killed."

Bek arched an eyebrow down at Dar. "She's not the one facing the entire pirate army."

"Hey, I don't plan on getting killed," Dar said with a grumble, and moved on towards Kijjar's voice.

The two Mandalorians moved through the cover of the dark sections of the hanger, moving towards the stern once more. As they got closer, they saw Kijjar was issuing a death sentence on a pair of Nautolans, male and female. They had the look of spacers, possibly recently captured.

"…For killing two of my favored ship jackers, I pronounce that you shall be terminated by lethal prejudice!"

"Makes you wonder why he kept us alive," Bek murmured.

The crowd began to chant and cheer for blood as Dar and Bek made their way to the framework above the hanger deck. They needed to get as close to Kijjar as possible.

As they worked their way through the joists and frames, they saw the crowd circled around the pair like had been done with themselves. The hanger's roof was retracted and the cloudy thunderstorms rumbled above. Dar could smell the sweet scent of rain was coming soon.

"Do you have any last words before I have Kazzar Chukka end your puny lives, Nautolans?" Kijjar was saying as he worked his crowd into a barely containable frenzy. He had his circle of commanders behind him. A heavily built Yuuzhan Vong stood at his side, wearing the weapons and armor of the slain Vas on top of his own.

A knife wheeled its way from the framework above the scene and stuck into the neck of the large bald Zabrak to Kijjar's left.

"Kijjar Vicant!" Dar shouted over the suddenly speechless and stunned crowd.

All attention turned to him and Bek in the rafters, as they stood precariously above the gathered masses.

"I challenge you, Kijjar Vicant!"

Dar leapt from the support beam and landed in the middle of the circle with a tumbling roll, coming back up on his knees. He stood up before the two Nautolans who looked absolutely terrified as they did confused. They jumped when Bek landed down behind Dar. The big man was fiercely staring the Yuuzhan Vong down.

Kijjar was flustered with astonishment. "What is meaning of this!? How did you escape fro—"

Dar hefted his heavy blaster and fired up at an angle, some shots piercing the throne's high back and silencing the big man. "I challenge you to the title of Pirate Lord! Everything that is yours will be mine when you fall dead at my feet! By honor of the code of the Reapers!"

The crowd was suddenly outraged. Half were in protest that no prisoner could dare challenge the leader of the Reapers. But the other half were calling for blood, and seeing the small Mandalorian be pummeled by their leader would sate their lust for violence.

"You cannot dare expect honor from me when you could not even show it before!" Kijjar said, stepping forward. "Do you expect your large friend to fight for you again?"

"Bek chose to step in for me. He chose to kill that godless _Vongese _on his own." He took a few steps forward, but raised his voice for all to hear. "I came here seeking vengeance against you, Kijjar. I will get it regardless. I again announce my challenge to you, Kijjar Vicant! Unless you are too coward to fight me before your entire pirate army!"

That got the crowd into an uproar. Now they wanted to see this battle. They stomped their feet and clapped their hands, or equivalent of.

Kijjar stared down at Dar with unmasked discontent. "Fine. So be it, little Mandalorian. I shall beat you to your death with my bare hands."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

**K**ijjar began removing his heavy coats and shirts until he was bare in his boots and trousers, no weapons any longer on him. "This will be your last moments alive, little Mandalorian."

Dar handed his heavy repeater blaster to the Nautolan behind him. "Hold this for me. Don't go anywhere with it." The Nautolan looked to his partner in shock and almost dropped the gun due to its weight.

Dar removed the baggy shirt and exposed his chest, leaving himself in just his own pants. He handed the other weapons he'd picked up over to the female Nautolan with the gun belts they came with.

The two combatants were similar in build, minus the height. Dar was stocky and muscular, his muscles taught from years of farming and rigorous training, for this very moment.

Kijjar was tall and rippling with muscle, his chest, shoulders and belly were thick with a carpet of hair, compensating what was shaved from his glisteningly bald head.

The two circled each other like caged Nexu, sizing each other up. Kijjar held up his wrist and showed Dar that his necklace with the skull pendant dangled from it, taunting him. He spoke with a heavy sneer on his lips. "You will die today, little Mandalorian. It is a shame you are not female, or I would rape your corpse like I did your mother's."

Dar didn't let it bother him. The crowd had now fully encased their ring, shouting for the fight to begin. Bek had moved off to the side with the two Nautolans at his side. The big man was still locked in a staring contest with the Yuuzhan Vong across the ring from him.

"Believe what you want, Kijjar. But you forget one major thing."

"And what is that, little Mandalorian?"

"I'm the best there is at what I do. And I what I do is beat the _osik _out of _dar'waadas hu'tuun_ like you!" Dar bolted in, fast. His first punch was a hard right hook snapping Kijjar's face to the left. His second was a fist into the man's gut. But neither blow made an impact on the big man. He just grinned and laughed, before grabbing Dar by the shoulders, picking him up, and throwing him across the ring.

Dar slid to a stop on his back, and was picked up and shoved back into the arms of Kijjar. The big man wrapped him into a wampa-like hug and squeezed hard.

Dar squirmed, feeling his arms trapped to his ribs and the air slowly being squeezed out of his lungs.

Kijjar laughed loudly in his face, eyes wild for the kill. Dar struggled as black spots began to appear in his vision. With seconds before blacking out, he took his last bit of strength and energy, sucking it from the crushing pain in his chest. He thrust his face forward and felt his forehead impact on Kijjar's nose.

With a muffled shout, the big man dropped Dar, who fell with a thud and scrambled back sucking in air once more.

Pushing to his feet, he saw Kijjar staring at him like a mad man, eyes wide and face covered in blood that was pouring from his broken nose. "I kill you!"

Kijjar charged, but Dar was ready. He came in lower, dodged to the left out of the way but kicked his foot up and down on the side of Kijjar's knee. It popped and he dropped with a ground-shaking thud to the durasteel flooring.

The kick left him unbalanced and Dar slid to the floor himself, but quickly regained his footing. He stood ready as Kijjar struggled to his feet as well.

The thunder outside boomed right above the open hanger, and a slow drizzle began to fall into the landing bay. The rain did nothing to calm the crowd or slow the battle.

Kijjar came after Dar once more, using his powerful mass and punches to go on the offensive. Dar's hands and arms came up in blocks, as he gave ground only to keep Kijjar moving. He was reading his attacks and letting the big man's rage build to a boiling point.

Then he did something unexpected. Kijjar swung his big thigh up and caught Dar in the chest with a knee. That threw him off his blocking, and Kijjar caught Dar by the throat. His other hand reached down and grabbed him by the leg and Dar was hefted into the air, held above Kijjar's head.

The man roared and threw Dar. Spinning through the air, his legs smacking against the high back of pirate's throne, and spinning him around to fall to the floor once more.

Kijjar's meaty hand was on the back of his head, a fist full of hair grasped. Dar saw stars explode as his face was rammed into the floor repeatedly. Dar struggled to free himself, but couldn't move as his own blood stained his face from the growing puddle on the floor.

Then it was over and he was lifted into the air once more, spinning until he landed in the center of the ring where they had begun the fight.

Water streamed over his face now as the rain began to fall heavily. The boom of thunder was barely audible over the churn of the crowd. Dar felt his strength slipping as he struggled to wipe the blood from his eyes.

"Little Mandalorian," he heard. "I told you I would kill you. But I'm only going to keep you alive long enough watch as I do what I wish with your precious Twi'lek."

Dar felt a boot pin him to the floor. He struggled to spit the blood out of his mouth to the side. He coughed feeling the weight on his chest. "You…" His words were lost as he wheezed the air from his lungs.

Kijjar removed his foot and picked Dar up, pulling him by his hair. "What did you say, little Mandalorian?"

Grimacing in pain, Dar opened his eyes and glared. "I said… Go _shab_ yourself, _osik kovid_!" He spit, a spattering of red and a tooth into Kijjar's eyes. The man dropped him with a shout. Dar scrambled as quickly to his feet as he could but felt Kijjar backhand him. The back of his large forearm slapped against Dar's chest, and he stumbled back once more to the ground.

Kijjar was above him in an instant, and Dar could only barely put his arms up to block the giant man's flurry of punches, and only just as a few still got through and pounded his face. But Dar wasn't about to give in just yet.

He thrust his booted foot up right between Kijjar's legs and hard into his groin. With a squeal, Kijjar fell back, hands between his thighs. He landed in a huddled mass, but still managed to scream out. "Kill them!"

Dar was scrambling to his feet just as he saw the Yuuzhan Vong warrior leap over his fallen commander and swing his amphistaff at his head.

Before the serpent could strike him, though, Bek was between them, tackling the Vong aside and to the floor, sending the staff flying into the crowd.

Then it became utter chaos as the pirates began fighting each other. Dar couldn't understand it. But he ducked just in time to miss the swing of one of Kijjar's commanders, and noticed that he was wearing his shoulder pauldron and a grin of sharp teeth as he threw punches. "You will die for your dishonors!"

Dar was having none of it. As the battle roiled around him, Dar put up his blocks, spun around and reached out, pulling the blaster out of the holster of a passing Rodian. As Dar completed it his spin, he blocked a high kick with his left arm, slipped in close to the commander and stuffed the barrel into his open mouth. "Oh shut the krif up!" Then pulled the trigger.

He crouched, took the dead man's blaster and began firing all around him.

The rain fell in sheets now. Dar punched and kicked, fired and pistol-whipped everyone around him. He couldn't find Kijjar though, the giant man having been lost in the crowd. It was utter madness as the pirates battled amongst one another.

Dar caught a glimpse of Bek battling the Yuuzhan Vong. Black and red blood sprayed from both combatants before Dar lost sight of them in the riot of pirates.

A Dug fell out of the sky, having leapt from somewhere. He landed against Dar's chest, throwing him back against a giant Wookiee. The Wookiee turned, roared and swung. Dar ducked as the Dug attacked him again and was caught up in the Wookiee's rage. Bolting away, Dar glanced over his shoulder in time to see the Dug be ripped limb from limb. He barely made it through another opening in the mass, pushing away from the raging Wookiee.

Soon he saw what he wanted. Kijjar was crawled up on his throne, struggling to keep pirates off of him who thought to take his title in his weakened state. Dar fired his blasters; killing two of them before being knocked aside as the same Wookiee and a Trandoshan were now locked in mortal combat. He and others were knocked asunder as hair and scales rolled through the crowd.

Dar lost his pistols, but saw something just as rewarding. The Nautolan who had been safe guarding his heavy repeater was huddled with his partner, firing off sporadic bursts from the repeater, having no idea what he was doing. They found a small respite of shelter behind the bulkhead that separated the landing corridor and docking pads.

Crawling between feet, hooves and paws, Dar found his way to the two Nautolans. The male was about to fire on him, but Dar put his hands up. "Hey! Throttle back!"

He hunkered down besides him and nodded towards the rear of the docking pads. "Go hide in a ship or somethin', I need my gun back."

The Nautolans did not argue and he gave the heavy repeater back to Dar, and then ran for the cover of the nearest starship in the hanger.

Now with his new favorite toy once more, Dar moved back into the fray.

Squeezing on the trigger, he cleared a path for what was the center of the feeding frenzy. Pirates cried out, then died. He sprayed death as he made his way once more for the leader.

Those who got too close found a heavy repeater blaster crashing against their skulls, and if they didn't back away, they found the business end aimed their way. Dar was not holding back anymore.

The rain continued to pour into the hanger, and the floor was now dangerously slick with oils, grease, blood, and water sloshing it all.

Dar broke through towards the throne once more. He took aim and picked off the pirates trying to bring Kijjar down finally.

"I'm not through with you, Kijjar!"

"Little Mandalorian!"

As if the two facing off once more seemed to quell the chaos once more, the pirates all came to a momentary halt, frozen locked in battle.

Dar aimed the heavy blaster at Kijjar as he walked forward. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bek and the Yuuzhan Vong still battling. The crowd, also catching note of this secondary battle, turned their attention.

Bek sent a trio of hard punches into the Yuuzhan Vong, pushing him back into the now reopening ring. The Vong was covered in his and Bek's blood, and stood swaying in on his feet. Bek moved in, wrapped his right arm across the Vong's collar. He put the Vong's left arm behind his neck, lifted the warrior up and the two of them hovered horizontal for a brief moment as Bek slammed him bodily into the floor with a splash from the gathered water. He stood up instantly and stared at the crowd, eyes blazing with fury and bottled rage not yet full unleashed. He was daring someone else to challenge him, and yet no one would.

Even Kijjar was stunned by the display of Bek finishing the Vong off. Kijjar sat half into his throne, holding himself up by the armrest. His eyes turned back to Dar. "It is time we finish this, little Mandalorian."

Dar held his aim steady on Kijjar as the big man unsteadily stood up. He chuckled lightly, hovering near the side of the throne.

Dar, although he felt his body ready to collapse and the pain threatening to shut him down, was alert enough to the sudden betrayal Kijjar was about to unleash.

Kijjar brought his hand up, a blaster removed from a hidden section of the throne. Dar squeezed his finger, and a hail of red laser fire riddled the throne and Kijjar's hand.

The man screamed and stumbled forward as Dar ran towards him. Dropping his heavy blaster, he tackled Kijjar to the steps at the foot of the throne, slamming him hard on his back. Hands on both sides of Kijjar's head, he twisted it with all his might and the snap echoed through the hanger, muffled only by the rainfall.

Stunned silence stretched as Dar reached down and untangled the necklace from Kijjar's wrist, then placed it around his neck once more. Then he stood on the top step above Kijjar's body, turned and faced the pirates.

As one, they all began to kneel. A ripple effect of the surviving pirates spreading towards the rear of the crowd as they all caught sight of Dar standing above the body of their leader.

Dar stood there uneasily, then slumped down in the throne, feeling the exhaustion building up within him finally taking over.

He held his face in his right hand, elbow on the edge of the armrest. He pulled his hair from his eyes and looked at the crowd spread out before him.

As they looked back, and the rain began to slowly taper off, they would stare at him sitting in the throne. On the high backing of the chair, holes and carbon scoring from his heavy blaster fire and the dim lighting with the drizzle of rain left a haunting image in the trick of the mind's eye.

Above Dar Kyram, the _Kyr'bes'alor_, was that of a skull.

_---------------------------------------_

Mando'a to Basic translations

_dar'waadas_ - worthless


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

**S**even days later, Dar walked through the streets of Ramada Prime. Bek dropped him off in orbit, and Dar took his fighter back to the surface where he landed at a smaller landing port towards the outskirts of town, avoiding the crowd of The Needle.

It was a bright and sunny afternoon, and Dar was feeling good. He was still stiff and sore from the fight in the old _Venator_-class Star Destroyer with Kijjar. But he walked tall and proud, for the sheer fact that he could still walk away at all.

He'd retrieved his armor from the pirates, having proved him self as capable of earning his gear back, at the very least. He only had to kill one of them to convince the others he was serious about them returning his equipment to him.

Though it had been nearly two weeks, not much had changed in Zaffar. Everything still bustled around as it had when Dar left on his quest to find Kijjar. Even the commercial and industrial zone where Belnak's pub was located seemed to have no change.

But there was something different. Dar knew that the adventure had cost him something. He had changed, on the inside. He wasn't quite sure what it was, and if it would turn out to be positive or negative in the long run. But he was positive that he held himself with a different sort of regard.

His first order of business was to stop in Belnak's pub. He made his way down the sidewalk and finally to the Feeorin's business. Pushing the door open, he made his way inside and stopped just at the top of the stairs at the guard booth. He turned his T-visor slowly to regard the Quarren who stepped out to confront him. But at the sight of Dar staring him down he stepped back and nodded his head down the stairs, as if granting Dar permission to enter.

Dar smirked behind his helmet as he descended into the pub.

_Business, as usual_, Dar thought as he saw the same sight as the last time he was here. Patrons drinking, eating, or losing hard earned money at a game of cards.

Belnak was behind the bar, discussing something in stern tones with his Bith bartender. A glance up, and the big black Feeorin's eyes went wide at seeing Dar.

"By th' Emperor's black bones! Dar, m'boy, I didn' be thinkin' I'd be seein' you again!"

Dar came forward to the bar, and nodded his head in greeting. He slipped off his paint-scuffed helmet. "Yeah, well, I'm like you're kitchen's dinner special. I keep comin' back, no matter how hard you scrub me. I'm here about some business you should know about."

Belnak came gave one final word to his bar tender, then came around the bar. "That I do, m'boy, that I do. Come. We'll talk further in my office."

Dar followed Belnak to the Wookiee guarded office door and they disappeared inside, shutting out the rest of the bar.

"You look like you've seen a bit of action, m'boy. You can hide it all ya want, but ol' Belnak can see yer limpin'," Belnak said as he went to his desk and sat down in the chair behind it. "I see a few new scratches and dings on yer armor."

Dar took his place as usual on the couch. "Yeah. Ran into a few bumps. And as far the pirates, well, at least now my mother can rest now, Belnak. I can assure you that much."

"I bet she can, m'boy. I assume th' fact yer still breathin', Bek found his way to you? Yer uncle said he'd be sendin' that one to look out after you."

Setting his helmet at his side, Dar nodded. "Yeah, and I'm glad he did. He helped me out. Wouldn't have gotten anywhere with out him."

Dar cleared his throat and leaned forward on his knees with his elbows. "About a week ago, a girl should have shown up with Kaleen. I had some explicit instructions for her, and I'm hoping she found you to make the arrangements."

Belnak nodded. "Ah, yes. Th' li'l Kiffar girl. I remember her. Her an' Kaleen." He paused to frown. "Heard what happened to yer other Twi'lek friend. I got the deepest sympathy fer ya, Dar m'boy."

Dar just nodded and put that pain aside for another time. "Thank you, Belnak."

"As fer the blue one. Kaleen. Yes, I was able t'get her all set up," the black Feeorin said while removing something from his desk. He slid a sheet of flimsy to Dar.

"That be her address. The Kiffar girl said she'd be staying there waiting fer you to pay her. Dunno about that one, Dar. She's a shifty girl."

Dar took the sheet, examined it and put it in his pocket. "Yeah, she is. I think she's crazy. But then again, who am I to call crazy? Anyway, Belnak, I've got to get this taken care of. I'll be in touch. I've got something on the sidelines, and could use you to help me out with setting up my resources for it. But we'll talk about that later."

"Not a problem, m'boy. I'm jus' glad ta see you back in one piece."

Dar stood up, and so did Belnak who came around the desk to crush Dar in a mighty hug. "You just keep yerself out of trouble, now. You may be walkin' away from dealin' with them pirates, but you ain't Corellian. Yer luck'll run out eventually."

"Yeah, don't I know it," Dar said, and stepped back. "And tell Uncle Granyn thanks for sending Bek. You'll probably talk to him before I do."

"Don't worry none 'bout that, boy. I'll get the message to him for ya. You just deal with yer women an' come back when you got time fer work."

"Will do." Dar put his helmet on, and let Belnak lead them out of the office. With a final nod of goodbye, he headed back out into the streets.

He stopped at an information kiosk, and found the location of Kaleen's new apartment. It was a long walk to the nicer residential sector of the city. But Dar knew the hassle of trying to arrange a cab that would fly him with his armor and weapons would be difficult, and besides, the walk would help him get his strength back from his injuries.

As Dar made his way through the upper class section of the city, people took a wide berth of him. His scratched up blue and gray armor, the intimidating T-visor, and array of weapons kept everyone at distance.

Dar was more than okay with that.

Belnak had set Kaleen up in a nice district with green grass, tall trees, and friendly neighbors. The apartment she was in was several stories tall, and she was on the top floor with roof access.

He entered the complex and nodded to the front desk clerk. The Ithorian nodded back, having been expecting the Mandalorian. Dar took the turbo lift up to the top floor, made his way down the hall and touched the door buzzer.

His helmet audio pick-ups caught the sound of the observation cam noting his presence, then the unlocking off the door before it hissed open. The door hadn't opened all the way when Kaleen launched herself out and into his arms. "Dar!"

Hugging her back, he felt her iron squeeze around him even through his armor. She held him tightly, burring her face into his shoulder. "Oh, Dar!"

The two held each other tightly, before he eased back a little. "C'mon, lets go inside."

Kaleen nodded and led them both back into her apartment. She shut the door and locked it once more.

Once inside, Dar was investigating for Ikeira. She wasn't in the living room, kitchen, or dining room. "Where's Ikeira?" He said, cutting Kaleen off from going on about anything else.

The blue skinned Twi'lek looked a bit hurt and confused. "She's out on the balcony… Dar?"

"Business, first." He turned from Kaleen and headed out onto the balcony, where he found Ikeira leaning on the railing, looking at some sort of holo device. As soon as Dar stepped out, the imaged flickered away and the woman turned to face him.

She was far more attractive now that she wasn't an enslaved prisoner. She had showered and cleaned herself up, and also washed her clothing. Her hair was thick and straight over her back and her eyes was far brighter and piercing than before, no longer dulled and glazed over by the treatment by the pirates.

"Well. Glad to see you showed up, Mandalorian. I was getting tired of the cozy and plush life style you set your girl up with here." The woman smiled sardonically and held her hand out. "Payment, please? I've got things to get to. You took long enough getting here."

Dar removed a credit stick from his pocket, and handed it to her. "I had a few loose ends to tie up. Thank you for keeping your end of the bargain."

Ikeira took the stick, inspected it, and then made it disappear into one of her many belts. "Don't mention it. It was a mutual arrangement. Besides, Kaleen's a sweet girl. Told me a few things about you, too," she smirked.

"Right," Dar said slowly, words filtering through his voice emitters.

She reached out and patted him on the cheek of his helmet. "Don't worry, Kyram. She didn't tell me anything I shouldn't know. But time for me to get out of here." She headed inside, and Dar followed to see her out. "By the way, how did you get out of there? Did you kill Kijjar?" She tilted her head curiously.

"Yes," Dar replied.

A slow smile spread on her lips as she came to understand, but not asking him to elaborate further. "I see. Well, then. Maybe you'll see me again someday, Mandalorian."

"Maybe." And with that, she left the apartment.

Kaleen came around to Dar's side slowly, worry in her eyes. Dar could see the trauma she hid inside, obviously wanting to stay strong in front of him. He took off his helmet, and set it down on the kitchen table.

"Dar, I… I don't know what to say. After what happened I… And Marnaara…" She once more came into his arms. "Dar, I'm so sorry about the things I said before."

He hugged her back, and kissed her temple. "Ssh, it's okay, Kaleen."

She pulled back and looked into his face. She reached out and touched his cheek softly, seeing it was still tender and bruised and scratched in places. "What happened to you?"

"I survived," he said softly. Then kissed her on the lips.

She kissed back, and then put her head on his shoulder once more.

The two held each other for sometime before he removed his weapons and armor to relax a bit. He went to go take a shower; they ate a small dinner, and then retired to the bedroom. As they lay in bed together, Dar began explaining the reason behind the apartment. "I wanted you to be someplace safe. I know Zaffar isn't always going to be your home, but at least now you have a place of your own that's better than where you were before."

"How did you afford it?" She asked as lay tangled in his arms, running her fingers across his chest. She touched his scars and traced them softly, knowing the story behind many of them.

"All the jobs I've done for Belnak. There were a lot of side jobs he owed me for. He told me he'd make sure you were put up and secure and safe."

Kaleen turned her eyes up to him. They locked gazes for a long time "I love you, Dar. I want you to know this."

"I know," he said and she tightened her arms around him moved herself over him to kiss him passionately.

The two of them stayed awake long into the night. Though Dar could never bring himself to the words, he showed her how much he did love her.

When they finally did get to sleep, staying locked in each other's arms; Dar only got a few hours of rest before waking up.

Kaleen was deeply sleeping, obviously the safest she'd felt in a long time. He moved away from her and went out onto the balcony. He finally felt at peace, at harmony with the galaxy.

_I don't have to hurt anymore. You're resting in peace now, Mother._ He looked up at the stars above, then back into the room at the sleeping Kaleen. He noticed he had begun idly rubbing his _kyr'bes_ charm between his thumb and forefinger. It had become a new habit while deep in thought.

_Fierfek, Mother. What do I do?_

Dar was frustrated and went inside once more. To his left in the bedroom, Kaleen slept peacefully in the bed.

To his right, his armor was stationed on the couch and ready to be gathered and worn once more.

He couldn't have both, he knew. He'd known since he left the pirate ship ruins. He was now at the moment of choice.

With one last rub of his thumb on his charm, Dar closed his eyes and made his decision. It was a large galaxy and so easy to get lost in. That was the way of life for some people. Others deserved better.

Dar got dressed, putting all his gear on once more and made the final preparations before leaving. He stopped in the doorway of Kaleen's room. He walked over and kissed her on the forehead one last time.

Then he left her apartment.

He was Dar Kyram, The Skull King. He knew his purpose in the galaxy now and had to deal with it accordingly.

As the morning rain clouds began to gather over Zaffar, Dar made it to his ship and left Ramada Prime. It was time to take his place in the galaxy.


	14. Chapter 14

**Epilogue**

**T**he next morning, Kaleen awoke slowly. She was tired, but it was a good, well rested tired. She reached her arm out to put it on Dar, only to feel empty bed sheets. Her eyes shot open when she noticed he wasn't in his spot where he'd fallen asleep. His side of the bed had been neatly made up, with a small holodisc on the pillow.

_Probably out getting breakfast_, she rationalized to herself.

Getting up, she dressed in her robe and took the disc to her holoplayer. A hazy-blue image of him from the shoulders up came into view. She smiled seeing his face with his scruffy hair and 'chops coming down his cheeks.

"Kaleen," Dar's strong voice came out. As it began playing, she moved to the kitchen to start up a cup of caf.

"I know when you wake up, you'll think I'm out getting breakfast for us. I want to let you know now that I'm not. I'm gone and I won't be coming back this time."

She turned and froze, listening to Dar's words cut through her.

"I care about you, Kaleen. And that's why I'm gone. It might be a cop out, but it's something I have to bear with and unfortunately my choice is one for you to bear with as well.

"I have a new purpose in the galaxy now. You may not agree with me. You may want me to stay here and finally not have to go out looking for hurt. But I can't do that. That's not who I am."

Kaleen sat slowly into her chair as she listened. She wanted to cry and tell him to come back and not to say anymore. But she knew that would not happen with the holodisc. It also wouldn't happen, because deep down inside, she knew this was coming.

"I wasn't able to save my mother. And I wasn't able to save Marnaara. There are people who don't get the choice to survive and live happy. And I wish I could help them, but I can't. It's a hard galaxy, and unless your hard back, you'll only get crushed over.

"If you look in your credit account, you'll find a substantial amount to keep you going for a good while."

He appeared to click something, and her account information came up, showing the transferred amount. Her eyes went wide with shock.

"I want you to go to the core worlds. Find yourself a decent school to enroll yourself in, and get an education. Go be a doctor or a lawyer or what ever you chose to become. I know what you're worth, Kaleen. And I can tell you right now that the kind of man I am will never reach that value.

"Please know that I will always think about you. You saved me, Kaleen. And so to return the favor, and so nothing happens to you again, I'm going to protect you so you wont have to live with the fear of being used against me again.

"I'm sorry it has to be this way. But I'm doing it because it's something I have to choose. I love you, Kaleen. I always have. Take care of yourself."

The image then flickered and was left in a stand by icon.

Kaleen smiled to herself, and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I love you too, Dar Kyram. Take care of yourself."


End file.
